As I sit in the sweltering heat of a poorly-ventilated meeting room, facing a man who cannot even wipe the sweat from his forehead with his hands cuffed and chained to his waist, I wonder if this is really going to make New Orleans a safer place.
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It's not that I condone lying. But there is something wonderfully freeing about wandering the streets of an unknown city; to find yourself with an utterly blank slate.
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