Electronic Kill Machine

Breakdown

It was maybe a month after Marina's death. Jim Morel was hanging out a lot in Quincy at "the house," the place Marina had left Ant. Inside, the apartment was in shambles: holes in the walls, empty bottles of booze everywhere, people sleeping here and there.

Quincy, MA Skyline

A real-life animal house.

Things got out of hand. One morning near 3:00 a.m., there were fifteen people in the apartment just going crazy, drinking and smoking. Loud music. Shouting.

What about the neighbors? someone said.

"We were all just singing this random song, chanting, loudly ... singing ... drunk out of our minds," said Jim Morel. "I remember thinking, God, the neighbors must hate us."

Jim mentioned something to Jason Weir. "Who cares," he said. "They won't say anything. They live here for free. Ant doesn't even charge them rent, he just doesn't care."

Jim and Ant sat down one afternoon to go over their business partnership. "Believe it or not," Jim said, "Ant was intelligent. He knew percentages and business. He understood that the money he was giving me for the band was paying him back in a good profit."

The drugs and the alcohol, Jim said, were getting to him, however. Anthony couldn't really do much of anything anymore except deaden an obvious pain he was experiencing. The question was, though, especially for Jim, as time went on, What was that pain from?

The mourning was over. What was bothering Ant? What was he running from?