13 October 2011



THE IDES OF OCTOBER.


1. But, it seems, it shant take a whole ten years since I found a strange distaste and decisiveness from the Coppolla Crowd to prove again, I was in the right and in fact, am the mad man on the steps watching the bloated roman parade go by and asking, who is this fool who thinks he is Caesar…?, an affectation I pretended to the Fred Fuches crowd to their snarling dictates, has been proven true as not, for the thousandth time in history. It turns out that indeed this was Praetorium full of trap doors, shoots and ladders, which no house hagiographer like Doris Kerns Goodwin could have ever pointed out, and again the senate who heard Tarzan’s boy say he is running against “Congress“, of which he party holds the higher house, was said once too many times for the liking of men who wore purple sashes when this nigger from the block, was still trying to commit real estate fraud and flip houses.


So, I saw a similar strain of thought, in two straight days, I SAW the whole of what they believe, what they are, what is expected, just by looking around for something to watch on a cowboy less Sunday, and was quite hearted by the Raiders showing a pluck and a verve and a requiem sweetens to old man Al, the great football mind, who partially with Lombardy, invented pro football, Mister Davis. I felt bad when I heard Al was dead, and in fact he wasn’t that old, but I actually tearred up a bit, when seeing the black head coach, so overwhelmed with emotion, as the great Raiders pulled it out last second, as they might have lost to a team created out of whole cloth for no apparent reason, and though the hinterlands are chewed up with fake team’s still one out of every seven dollars the nfl makes comes from the Dallas Cowboys, anyway. I felt bad recalling that when Al as voted into the hall of fame, a local house Jew, of the sort I hate, no Alan Brady he, a pompous and yet clownish little Al Capp cartoon come to life, Myron Cope went on the air, I recall this, and was gleeful in saying how he didn’t Vote for him, for him, as Al Davis, he said then was “a wise guy“, and acted like a goom--bah, a sin here in Pollock hills.

I felt bad as Al was dutifully damned by the media complex, though his raiders have been shown more often in prime time than any other team, including the cowboys, so they were not, like Keith Olberehncmen, married to anything they said believed in, after all. And I thought of how he was the first nfl executive to hire blacks, minorities, offered Vince Lombardi a coaching seat in the afl when he couldn’t get a meeting in the old NFL, had a first black head coach, a first Latino, brought women is as something other than nuns and secretaries as seen in Woryhelssnbergher land, and again created pro football, stealing the nation for the baseball who was king when he showed up. And I thought of how now this pristine foolishness this quota system the niggers aren’t smart enough to see through, of asking blacks if they like to submit résumés is laughingly called --a Rooney Rule. This from a family who sat back and watched the Pollock mezzanine pour beer on Kordells’s s head, boo him off the filed, as they did to Jefferson Street Joe, to the horror of sophisticate Chuck Noll, and snowshoed, it is called a Rooney rule, --as the kids at Wall street shall find out, there is nothing so American as the divas of Usurpation and under miners, it is our greatest imperial commodity as the Jesuits taught me, selling out is its own rearward. Hmm, whom shall O’bama tap dance towards, the rabble, or his bag men…you make the call.

And looking around on television, after catching the great Dick Van Dyke as if seeing a great book of middle verse I hadn’t seen in years, in two straight days I saw Italian Americans as shown by the great and holy and righteous media as they are meant to, and must admit I do not care much anymore, as any anger the Coppola cages have engendered in me didn’t last as long as say to make me a romantic disfigure my own self. I dream of becoming a Catiline, however I don’t have the feet for it.

2. On south park, as yes, Juvenal in constriction paper, and its always sunny in Philadelphia , the usual dago images were shown with almost boring glee, with a lovely turn of the knife when it is discovered that in fact the red haired yenta mother of the awful and almost insufferable Kyle is said to be from, horrors, New Jersey. And I thought., it is obviously that Italian people work for these shows, how can such things be said so eagerly and openly by a media which slathers on its sanctimony as nigger jimmy does the hand sanitizer when the faggots appear …? I still think I could not do it. But you know what was even funnier than any of that, that across the golem river, in the emerald city, it turns out the house hold Jews of the metropolis in Little Jerusalem, wall street, took from the raiding of the Fisca by Tyberius, hell Matt Stone is onto something, not thirty cents on the dollar, or 40, or even a half a buck, but got from their bald headed raider 100 cents on the dollar for these swindles, most probably illegal, --now that’s funny. Like Bill Clinton, I read Machiavelli for fun, and Juvenal for profit.




3. So, I am on my reclamation campaign and thus, have taken the play called Saturnalia, and replaced it back on a place called trigger street, as this was about the time, that so fat and happy and with dago morons placating their needs for minstrels shows so willingly, I found that the thing should have been re-posted in this wall of books. Just on general principal. As after all I have finished my book of the Etruscans, the only noble savages you do not bleed for, the only indigenous people the white shickas and the fat yentas do not make common cause for as they bundle rich fags cash to O’bama the way Minerva spun silk into gold, a myth which became chemistry as the dark ages made people look for anything classical, even lies, as they seemed realer than anything any Martin Luther had ever said. This was the play about a local man named Jonnie Gammage, who was murdered in a traffic stop by the cops who do the dirty work for Czar Rooney, while good old nigger boys like monsignor Pig meat Shapton didn’t know nuffin about dat sur, and went chasing after stories about niggers sodomised with plungers hoping to get his cut after he sued for peace. No body was ever fired for making asides about Kordell on epsn, but then, he was a little too much like a victim to allow the bald head niggre and the smarmy Jew to keep laughing. Always, kids, -- keep laughing!

Do recall as now Peanut eaters like Kodrell West are suddenly everywhere, as they need to be as a kind of academic Indulgence, lest anyone notice that the ncaa uses its share of slave labour, they have to play off the occasional nigger who you know cant run and is Erkle like, --they will be our Florentine thinkers, as again Passolini was right and Jews snicker at Sicilians sent in by the doge to disperse the Bloomberg hated crowd, do recall my as yet unmade play, wont you…? Do recall Jonnie Gammage, who amusingly didn’t make it into August Wilson’s Pittsburgh fences as a kind of exemplar of imperial victim hood, do recall Saturnalia nights poo pooed by, of all things, a LA theatre trope who at first didn’t want to pay the royalty fees for The oldest established floating crap game in new York as sung by the ring a ding dine angels, but then when I happened to have a satirical redux of this done by myself, as a parody of the great Abe Burrows, it turned out again, as Cicero said, and he would know, the first casualty of censorship is anger at the powerful, and masters and servants, and all of that.

Therefore, do recall my lovely little play, as eventually they owned up and told me Race was something they lied to avoid, the fact that a black quarterback was trashed with fake police reports by a piggish espn clod named Mark Madden was too “provincial” a thing, and who wants to be sewed by the stillers anyway, and we are alas, as Gore said, an empire without Satire and all we have are faggots soldiers, who cant take being booed, much less spit at anymore as even a liberal now is expected to wave the flag, while doing battle with waxy yellow build up. And, still, Virgil is the only fag allowed to be sneered at by barbaric morons. Remember, dikes, no body lost their jobs at espn for making Charles Nelson Reilly like asides about Kordell, and no nigger hod dee doed into Pittsburgh when a man was beaten to death with maglites on a polish hill street, as Cardinal Rooney made sure the naggers got the trinkets and the nickles for which they live.

So, I compiled that all, and recalled Saturnalia there, as who the hell are you house Jews and white trash to tell me anything, Sweethearts…? I am the mad man in withered leaves piss tainted toga on the Roman street. I guess when aids having struck as it did and taking away as many Jesuits as it did, Tray Parker is now the closest thing we are allowed to wit. As Today I ask, recall the Etruscans, who didn’t live in sticks and deer skin houses, but built towers that the Romans couldn’t even try to emulate, so much so, that to this day we still speak of ivory towers livers as a pejorative, showing there is always a way to smear anybody. And I bet you do not know why we speak of yellow streaks down one’s back, I would guess.

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