28 July 2009


...Uh oh....watch out, look out...

It is a shame that Tyols fell apart, as does so much I do. Sometimes I think I do sabotage all this stuff, but, the stories I was following, They all have seemed to gain in speed and turnabout just as it all fell apart, as a project. Even before the ides of October, which is the ironic date of October 12th, meaning it is a roman holiday before a.d. events, like say, is Christmas, and which like so much was a roman holiday before anything else, Shnookie seems to have hit that wall, which a quick working Augustine Clinton has been turning from marble back to brick, quickly enough, and has been placing up, hoping to make a nice hard Barrier, all along. It is funny how the more befuddled and idiotic Dido the queen gets, with triumphs amazingly starting to darken up, don't they always, the more blacker he gets, as the golden child, seemed to go from Virgilian Gold, to high yellow, to fake cutie pie black like Belushi sweating through Sam and Dave songs, to what appears now to be headed right for satanic black. I sort of thought he was there all along, and that, well, being so much like who he followed and follows him, that in some ways he is getting what he deserves. Don’t think my man Bill, Harry Lime in the window light seen and stunned and shown now as alive in Vienna, despite what has been said, isn't smirking at this turn of events. Also it is interesting how while the boy czar flits about in a mad state, hurdling, whirling, bumbling stumbling, floating, mixing, preening, mincing, sliding, crashing, bloating and floating, why,--there is Madame herself, Mama Roma, all the gallentdonna, such a figure of calm serenity and poise. Ha!

Oh... A quick note of Florentine translation...It would never dawn on you white women out in freedoms acre, out there, the kind with too much gum, and think you are liberal because you think paying spics a third of what whites would make makes you a facilitator of the American dream , practically bleeding hearted, and that you feel so superior in slowllllllyy speaking to your Spanish help, but the fact Shnookie is dropping like a stone, well, it wont be helped by smarmy little asides about birth certificates, or Argentine mistresses or even health care. It all, as Machiavelli could tell you if you worked a day in your life, it makes him look cold and distant, and in love with triumphalism. See, as even 10,ooo people a day lose their jobs, him spinning around racing against a leap year even numbered year, when he will be powerless, is making him look, cold. Like all things Italian, it deosnt sound right at first, but the more you think about it.....

Also, The temple of the sun God casts a wide shadow, and woe be to gladiators who are too dodgy to appease the god of boxing, and the beloved Romans, of course, did have as Have a God of Boxing, bless them, who unlike Allah doesn't seem to like folks who can kill workpeople from far off caves . Any Roman God has predisposed to his existence a sacrament of manliness, in truest form, as this sort of implies there is a gospel in being able to hurl, or better take, a punch.

As sure as sun follows the rain, god dammit, our local diva qb, Ben Rothschildboiger, puppet extraordinaire, with that'' all about eve'', lifetime movie, understudy arrogance of his, he must be center of attention, so, has been charged with Rape. Loverly. Why this is delicious, in Caesar Romero as THE JOKER speak, when evil was not so...narcoleptic, is that a few years ago, a man who has used his big mouth to get himself on an alternative rock station, meaning in un hip Pittsburgh, he must play 1975 era rock between his diatribes, a pig named Mark Madden railed against a black qb named Kordell Stewart. And, he did so to the delight of the assorted Pollocks of a awfully southern northern town of Pittsburgh. Kordell had not been a Pariah from the beginning , you see, and in fact, was such a hit, he had t shirts and Dr. Pepper commercials, but that was when he was'' a slash'', a wide out, a running back, a six time a game direct snap artist. When he wished to be quarterback, here in northern Kentucky which is what Pittsburgh really is, all hell broke loose among the fat pigs who eat their own kind, in sausage, standing there publicly drunken, in dirty t shirts. A Pittsburgh wedding is obvious from the fact that the groomsmen washed their stiller Jerseys. Mark, now full out alter boy to the church of God Rothlisbooger, is a creep whose act I not only tired of, but saw the inherent viciousness within, as I did Shnookies, ---see, I am an AUGER, born in August no less, and have found that 'auger' comes from an ordinary Italian word as they say, for Now, MEANING THAT augers were mostly used to see what was going on around them at that very point, while others were lost in the waves of pretense tense. But he made his career such as it is as a radio sports Winchell, radio days issuing every means necessary and every piece of innuendo, mostly like a good American journalist, he made up on his fat ass, against this nigger with the temerity to have wanted to play the sainted role of qb, which upset his German equilibrium.

And here, every day, Mark spoke of how Kordell had been found by the Pittsburgh Police in a now taken as fact bit of stiller gospel, in the Allegheny woods engaged in ----Hooroors!!--homosexual sex!!! Mark , you see, Mark couldn't conceive of two stereotypes at once, it makes his brain hurt, as though a football player flush with gladiatorial cash, couldn't have had all the homo or any sort of sex he had wanted in a Ray Ray like crib, with a kind of rapper joy, a slurpie machine installed, as it were, and near a then becoming big plasma tee vee. This was, by the way 2000 and a bit before and after, and Pittsburgh was still dealing with ''The Best man'' like innuendo politics about destroying a mans life because he dared to ask to be qb, and wouldn’t just slash all day, a fucking football player was slimed and trashed over , --good lord, a football player!!!! , which here, is more important than say president, where, guess who this city and township went for and made no bones about in the last primary. Ask John Steigerwald, called a nigger lover on Rushbo's one time radio station KDKA, before Rush, called ''Boss'' as a insult by the always tin eared as usual Olbermen, left them in the lurch, or wherever having to resort to Dennis Miller can be called.

And El-Marko went after Kordell with a Hedda Hopper after Orson Passion, meaning, a persona non grata like, vendetta, which made no sense except that Orson made Hedda think of everything she was not. Ben, --shit Negro--, if it isn’t for the well timed yeller flag, and for mistakes the NFL has to apologize for on the Wednesday after the super bowl, one would note that his career numbers are lower than Kordell's. And now, turnabout hits the the vaunted Stealers, though Mark is doing his alter boy bidding by trashing this woman as a, of course, money gold digging who’re, he continues to trash her and those who dare speak of the surly side of Ben un shown to fawning house types on ESPN, with the implied acceptable-ness of the worthless ESPN, CSPAN FOR CLOSET QUEENS. OH YES, from which he was fired, but still looks to for sibylline guidance. But all is not lost, in that wondering hat he would say about a team who got rid of a nice ruining back called Bam Morris over some weed , no less, now having a rapist at qb, who still holds a ball like a loaf of town talk which shows a rapists touch, one of the Ben detractors , of which they are legion here--hallelujah, asked when mark was berating the released Michel Vick as , of course , like TO, as ''unsteleerslike'', meaning literally too dark as he once said, still, a drowsy cell caller asked, ''How many Women, wooers, gold diggers , have said they were raped by Michel Vick...or anyone who wasn’t a stiller in the last few years...?'' Madden had a usual silent moment of diva quiet, which he sues as a weapon, but this time, shoved at him by need. Oh, Call It Myron’s revenge, fatso, whose being Jewish, couldn’t take what had had been done by the animals he helped to semi domesticate with that bar rag of his, and said as much before he was summarily recalled with a monosyllabic, smiling, rah rah lineman who played here in the inglorious , oh yes, I recall them, 1980’s.

April, 2007. I am the auger.

I wrote a play called Saturnalia in which a character based on Kordell was inserted. He was called ''Cornelius Black Adam Jones'' , a wirery fast wide receiver who saw the old man who ran the team, Cyrus McCullsky as a avowed racists creep, who has, as in real life, gotten rid of every good receiver Cornelius made a connection with, instead keeping high yellow Melotto Loud mouths who made every out pattern look like a Herculean snatch who still does, and proclaims himself dee eladeer of dee wide oust wit dat smilllle you democrats doo expect from perodents and wideouts so! The owner then made it a cause to be getting rid of fast wide outs who caught sixty yards tds on the fly because of wearing superman S t shirts, which inflamed the murderous , Pollock crowd. True story. I sent the play to a black theater in off Broadway New York, and they liked it, thinking they would play all the parts as blacks, but as Italians, as is say done in say shit like Harry potter, OR IN KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE COMMERCIALS, WHICH WITH SUDDENNESS, SHOW UP WITH AFRICAN KNIGHTS. Or as is seen in later versions of King Arthur, I don’t know why, but in which it seems that white people can feel good about them selves, when the only black caricature who exists in the classical cannon, outside of Judas of course, [Or Hannibal, who is always distressingly already ancient history in every Roman movie ever made, as why give the wops and the colords the press, after all,] is strangely, Lyrically, named Othello. They liked it a lot, this black theater, thinking I hads been black, and were shocked when I said I was Italian. Easily, a guardian angel named Virgil, supposedly, ostensibly the poet, who swoops down in full winged apparition to the big Ginny hero, and who talks amazingly like a ring a ding ding Sinatra, was their favorite part. I was aked how I wrote a black part without giving in to too much of what Doctor Gates calls ''vernaculah'' , ie, words like Mother fucker, Cocksucker and Bitch, although never ever is it, oh but never ever, ''Cunt'' , scholarship EVEN FAKE, has its limits, hooo deee doooooo!--. I quoted the Roman Line,...'' that I am human, therefor, can empathize with all human things, as Nothing Human is therefore foreign to me''. But still in Saturnalia Mode, I ascribed it to Sammy Davis Jr. and not Terence, who said it, as Sammy is the image of Terence in the play, whom he represents in the play, like wise with Dean Martin as cosmopolitan Ovid.

Then, I got a letter, on paper even, I think it was, telling me, on second thought they didn’t want any ''lawsuits''. In the play, I had dashingly mentioned the Jonnie Gammage case, and its connection to the Steelers, a team which gets more breaks than do even the Cowboys, but then if I have learned anything, it is that Phosphorous is not Phosphorous, when it is hurled by Jews onto stone throwers, but then, too, it is phosphorous when contemplated as thrown at grandfather Iran, which is unthinkable to its masters, or controllers of the first place. Ergo, Rothlisboiger gets the calls, despite having or not having crossed the plane or the line of scrimmage, --ineligible lineman down field is a myth when Ben galumphs down field, god knows. I mentioned that a man named Jonnie Gammage had been murdered by Pittsburgh cops, killed, not beaten up, not had a plunger stick up his popo, no, he wasn’t neither a song and dance man, nor a scholar of niggerology, meaning, he watched soul train, and who didn’t know the name of the little girl jumping rope which Hannibal cut in two, and thus became a rallying cry for Romers for a decade of his being stuck in the mud, --well, to be fair, you know like Bill Oreilly, shnookie and his Iranian bag men don’t know if her or Sagenentia neither, so, hell,...Gee, I am sure that good niggers like Skippy and Spiky who saw no reasons to say a word about this murder, still barely know the name, and unlike Romans, THEIR ONLY BATTLER CRIES ARE THEIR OWN NAMES, AS IS SEEN, APPARENTLY SO.

The black New York actors, again, treated me kindly, but, they, artist activists, had never heard of this story. Well, sorry, but Jonnie had too many connections by chance to Daniel Cardinal O'Rooney, and so, Dan, an open secrete here in Pittsburgh, was sure that the NAACP, those most worthless and servile of nigger men to quote Cato, were slathered with tickets, games balls, helmets, jerseys , and other paraphernalia. And with the whole nfl then amid a sqeeze play and a caldera trying to get a show called play makers off the soprano station--they did, showing Sicilians are still in the places carved out for them by Plautus, --the Giants made sure that Reverend Al types, who seem to be a dying breed, were given such candy as to shut their insufferable mouths up. Not being a song and dance man, poor Jonnie, aren’t you all to quote the great Paul Mooney, he didn’t get the full Kmart on layaway Marc Antony treatment, including a golden nigger rich Casket , just to put a fine nigger rich gaudy, or its it Gotti, point on things. Oh, Cardinal Pig meat, take your gold urns and your Barney Fawnk upturned superiority and shove it up your fat ass.

And now, the Stealers have as rapist at qb, to match the same accusations hurled at Kordell, even Mark in fevered best couldn't think of calling it Rape, as even a slug like him has its limitations, or had, though it is never a accusation seemingly never made against or at or for Raiders I notice. Minerva temepstua. And, Barrack, the house nigger to the praetorium has bestowed on Daniel Cardinal O'Rooney, oh how Catholic can one get, and how Borgia, an ambassadorship of his imperium, cockeyed as it is. Oh, ..., how perfect, as he gets out, as fat bloated qb rapist, who is disliked as much any one in Pittsburgh who has won can be, throws to another one time would be exiled choir boy, who traffics in drugs. But they are ''honorable men'', says the Irony incapable Madden. Oh, the black troup, who was actually nice and professional with me, as i said, no vendetta here, with me, you know, me, big tony, who white women call a racist,... they enjoyed the play very much, but instead, --no joke-- went with a revival of ''Amos and Andy'' as LESS INCENDIARY. Oh... I, Roman Tony, strike again, despite myself...I deal in triumph of which Barrack ''that’s so crazy it just might work'' Obama has no ideas of the Sort Of Triumphs which matter, of the Brunette Priestesses or the shininess of the confetti. You know, while John Steigerwald in Pittsburgh was doing battle with open Klansmen about a black qb, you know who laughed at Kordell, and made snide comments the most back then, besides the beady eyed Jewish guy who the players think is a fag ... it was Keith Olberman. God bless America.

Oh, Let’s play hardball, indeed.


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