Sidebar for Plaintiffs

Warning: you who gaze relentlessly into the pandemonium offered by our temporal world might, just might, think I’ve reached the heights of delusion. Or depths, however you define it. But hold on for this story in today’s Daily News.

It’s the sort of story I rarely read thoroughly but today I did. It’s about a big drug bust which hit two Bronx apartments and one in Manhattan, over a six-hour period, conducted by agents from NYPD’s special narcotics division. Slam bam. Massive amounts of fentanyl and xylazine as an admixture (known as “tranc” or the “zombie drug,” catchy name), along with loads of glassine envelopes, around $50,000 in cash and eight now captive drug entrepreneurs.

Big bust, big catch.

Have you noticed something missing from this malfactory list? No? How about weapons? Because from all these locations, with all this drug stuff, and among eight dealers there were (I’m going to highlight this) two loaded guns — a .357 revolver and a 9mm Beretta.

That’s it.

If you don’t think this is reason for good cheer, pull yourself out of the doldrums for, say, five seconds, and smile.