Too Much Information

Please, mommy, make it stop...

Gonzales got out of the black SUV, wearing running shoes, a T-shirt and black biking shorts that hung loose around his bulging quads. He has a sweet face, mild eyes and a buddy's smile. His legs, though, were something else. They looked rooted and unmovable, like redwood trunks.

If I had to read it, so do you...

The wheels turn, [Gonzales'] iPod plays Don Henley, and he finds a rhythm. Sometimes he sings along: "I never will forget those nights. I wonder if it was a dream. Remember how you made me crazy? Remember how I made you scream?"

Now, that's what I call torture.

Read more, if you dare.

The hat tip goes to Glenn Greenwald, though I wish I hadn't gone there.