The Storm · July 2026

Chronological diary of the storm. Each day has its own page; multiple entries on a day live there together, in time order. Newest first. The prose leans on pattern-level descriptions where it can — see sources & vocabulary for how the descriptive links work.

  1. July 4, 2026 2 entries
    1. Noise Pollution

      13:00 · david

      Noise Pollution

      A four-clip incident on the porch, mid-day on the **Fourth of July**. A lawn crew is at work at the neighboring house, running a backpack leaf blower on a federal holiday — meaning someone is paying holiday-overtime wages to interrupt a residential block on a day off. David starts filming from the porch, audibly narrating the who-pays-holiday-pay-for-this question. The tell arrives quickly: **the woman on the crew aims her blower at him** as a response, and she is the same worker who came onto his porch weeks ago with the blower, a confrontation that seeded blownaway.org. Her partner comes over and starts filming David. The threat to call the police lands from their side; David welcomes it — *give it to the police, call the police, tell them I was annoyed.* Four clips: (1) the initial complaint and the aimed-blower response; (2) the code-switch as he asserts residency, *yo vivo aquí, me entiende;* (3) the three-minute standoff with the partner, the mutual filming, the police threat, and the full backstory the encounter is a repeat of; and **(4) the kicker** — after the crew leaves, David finds *a bag of dog shit on my front porch* and puts the question plainly: *do you think that could have been the lawn people that I just was talking to?*
    2. Move, Bitch. Get Out the Way.

      07:30 · david

      Move, Bitch. Get Out the Way.

      A short morning-walk clip — the day after Sidewalk Encounter. A man walking his dog off-leash on the sidewalk. David sees the man from hundreds of feet away. The man sees David. The dog is on David's side of the sidewalk; the man makes no move to correct. David keeps to his side, visible on camera. Neither yields. **Contact** — David's leg into the dog's head, a bone-on-bone sound as the jaws take the shock. David isn't seething; he's documenting. His own read is placed in front, generous: *probably the man hadn't had his coffee yet.* But the rhetorical questions land right after: *am I supposed to get out of the way of his unleashed animal? Does the dog have rights to the sidewalk that supersede mine?* Title is a callback to the Move Bitch (1973) entry from the music-that-helps series — the register wants the same forward-force song this morning.
  2. July 3, 2026 1 entry
    1. Sidewalk Encounter

      13:00 · david

      Sidewalk Encounter

      A four-clip sequence recorded on and around the walk back home. **1 — the incident (1:45)**: a woman standing in the middle of the sidewalk on a phone call, purse protruding behind her, blocking the full width; a bump-into on the purse — *sorry about that* — a snarky exit line — *thank you for getting out of the way* — then the tell — one loop around the block later she is *completely gone.* The bump-into is one of the specific AKAs named in the street-theater tactic definition. **2 — the volume argument (3:53)**: David's walking baseline in Montrose since March 2025 works out to roughly *2,700 crossing interactions*, and *not one* has read like this. Possibilities named without commitment: guest of a neighbor, or dropped off specifically. **3 — the wider read (5:25)**: the key observation — she stopped talking when he approached, so she knew he was there — and a register shift into a broader civilizational critique of rude-behavior-as-norm, with an explicit intelligence-agency-and-Epstein-island aside, a *no manifesto* disclaimer, and a hunger-illness-war civilizational-cycle warning delivered as David's own read, not the site's. **4 — the audition (0:46)**: David reflects on the intensity of clip 3 as *a bit of an audition,* names that others are saying the same things, and closes.