I was walking down Bushwick Avenue to do my radio show, as I do every Sunday morning.
I noticed an idling rusted out pickup truck, sitting next to a construction site up ahead of me.
As I walked past, I happened to glance to the right and looked through the small, square plexiglass window into the construction site. I saw a kind of ritual sacrifice going on, atop a makeshift altar.
There was a big old tube TV on the altar, and three men were viciously stabbing the TV with huge hunting knives.
At first I thought it was maybe a film or video being made, or some sort of performance art piece. But I immediately recognized that this was not a performance. They were not pretending.
And then they saw me.
And they followed.