01 October 2011

True story.

In 2004, I had a first draft of a thousand page novel about the Etruscan, a first great society on Italian soil, which found, as they always do, Welfare and democracy don’t work well together, and never does, but raiding the national bank is worse, no matter what the Jews think. I sent it in, and got a mess of ambivalence from spamming big fat ugly white woman yenta Jew bitches, who didn’t like my use of certain terms, like Diva, Opera, cartoon, Welfare, consortium, bribery, senate, liberal, chiaroscuro, Sottovoce, and others, sure that before the Greeks, everyone, especially you colureds, were somehow lion cloth wearing nobles savages of the sort America had come to know and love in various Indian and cowboy fare, the history channel and an occasional Tarzan movie.

She sneered at me as she felt allowed to, good liberal she was, that I sued words like steam engine, dome of the Rock, Hadj, welfare cheats, military advisers, The Fog of war, domino theory, preventive war--in 2001, take that Bill Kristol!, rapprochement, --I think I blogged about that one at the time, as if your later Metterniches explained or knew anything the Romans didn't, --puhlesse!, as she liked thinking the Italian were savages before the Romans and probably after them slightly less so, and allowing for the occasional cable television show about gladiators, possibly the least interesting aspect of Rome, and after all they, unlike at the U were at last Paid. Openly.

Mostly she was ver Klempt, if I am using the Latin correctly, and its all Latin, that I used the erroneous, to her words, 'Pasta machine'. She was sneering even in all blue, all lower case email letters--a dead giveaway--that thought I preened that I had some erudition, --how did I miss Marco Polo and the famous story of his bringing noodles from Cathay, and all. Well, I asked in email back, did she miss that in fact, in 2000, in just trying to build a Euro mandated subway from Rome to Umbria, that was found a treasure trove of Tuscan graves, which sort of kick started me into this. Did she know that in one of those Etruscan graves was in fact found a sliver metal pasta machine, as is seen in Italian homes, and various Mario Battali cooking shows, perfectly formed as it is to this day…? My tone back was seen as anti Semitic, which is why since then I have tried to be about as circumspect as Himmler when it comes to racial matters. Since this discovery, Spaghetti as a diminution at all has gone unmentioned, lest anyone know that the original Italians came from Mongolia and northern China, as Scorsese was a dutiful little House nigger and made his termite terrace, on command, an opportunity turned down by even Coppola in poverty, showing someone at zoetrope read my emails after all.

She was snippy back, of course, as I got the scent in the wind that somehow I as an Italian in America, was “preening” something, as opposed to say featured player rent-a wops like Joe Peshi, who are somehow iron clad, and thankfully allowed to say nigger at least then without it even being a slur. I think I started to become more like Paul Mooney that day, and decided since I wasn’t covered by political correctness, white mans civility, using the basic traits of Italian banking and Semitic religions, I wasn’t paying anything into this. But, I did see where this was headed, even then I spoke of the often raising of the Fica, their central bank by the venial overlords, and I cant wait till O’bama the magnificent realises that his sun chariot came crashing to the ground near an off ramp to the jersey shore. Its never primavera in Palestine, kids, and its always autumn in New York. The Moma tried sending swat teams of Jews to get the golden Etruscan ruins, but alas, the Vatican sent in its Jesuit hazmat units in first. The Etruscan ruins are under lock and Conclave.

So, as I have finished Ancient Romance, in its first best, and older part, I took the chapters of Sabine astrology and saved them in a file called SA on a thumb drive , but also, kept the pieces left of the later finished book sent to Amazon. I was going to throw out the rest away, but found a real customizable admiration for praetorian Pope Marcus, soldier cum pontiff, a Dago Beckett, as still in the state of disorder he is, it is in is a better more fully formed Italian human character than ever seen to jump off the mildest brow of Coppola or Scorsese. AND unlike them and like Dante, the admiration of barbaric toga wears like Chrissie Hitchens is almost an anathema to me. I and my works do not want your admiration, save it for Petrarch until you realise too late, that he coined the term Dark AGES, as its those smiling availed I love English literature types eventually who fill up with bile and break apart, as my Ma would say. And as I continue my assaults on Parnassus, the floating rock in the sky as Ariosto mentioned it, as am so willing to utilize the low brows against the middle, I do find it funny that Signora Fortuna does take her rubes as she so pleases,...What with Ben Rothlibugher at this writing, after the stiller fans have thrown away thirty years of sanctimony for him, is at 10 turnovers and one touchdown. Wow. The Red Socks, the poor mans Yankees, lost a game seemingly too overwrought to have come from the pen of the un-Natural, Malamud. Obama is at 38 percent and has cut back at the eyes of the people not good enough for his blazing brightness and glory, are they ever not too soft and squishy for the hanging messiahs, Cassius...?, as he has become all alkaline and pissy as Mussolini seething from the ropes, and best of all, our venal, whooping coughed audience Juvenal, Jonnie Libovitz, the satirist is losing audience to Storage wars and American pickers. How wonderful a time is this, after all…? Night-swimming, deserves a quiet night....


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