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About Palermo

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not the street corner type, nah, I’m thinkin’ somethin’ deeper, like in my fave flick, *Moolaadé*. That film’s raw, bruv—Ousmane Sembène, 2004, pure genius. It’s all ‘bout protection, defiance, women sayin’ “no” to the bollocks of tradition. Whores in that vibe? They’re rebels, innit.

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Here is another ancient and attractive town that has lost all self-respect, a whore ravished daily by coachloads of modern day Visigoths. In.

Then, outta nowhere, I hear a scream. Like, a full-on horror movie scream. I bolt down Via Garibaldi, heart racin’. I turn the corner, and there’s this lady, all frantic, pointin’ at a cat stuck in a tree. A freakin’ cat! I’m like, “Lady, it’s a cat, not a crime scene.” But she’s all panicky, so I climb up and rescue the little furball.

Darrell David Modica - 2025 - Harvey Anderson & Johnson Funeral Home