12 September 2015


After finessing pages cleared to be submitted, when somehow blindsided by comics hacks on perpetual parade, I sent them in to various sites I had been doing well with and accepted into only to get a frigid silence, and not even a whiff of diminishment or distaste. Ah, I take it I have been banished from the comic kingdom, or ghetto, its doesn’t matter, both are acceptable, and both tell the truth. Not caring about distance from the kiss less hacks of comic land, where like Stan lee they think all truth is something that can be found on the late late show, I could care less, though prepackaged these pages as have done since twelve to send off to whatever comics lands I can find, thrown off to anyone who like me is tired of the American ethos of a love of dark ages. As I have said before have been legit in my tiredness of the bed wetter assassin cradlers since twenty, when I first and best thought I was too old for the sissies of pulp, made all the worse by thinking their watercolor image palate made everything look hip.

But, as usually when dealing for some reasons with the comics twerps, there is a underground of comic hacks worthy of a black web, the writes which they all are sue the brightly colored images from Hanna Barbara to hide and mask their true insinuations, nightmares and fears, and so, again my computer as broken apart by caught viruses which seem you’d think by now Id know attach themselves to the lovers of death called the comic hacks and you’d think I would leave such dumps be, as even in emails telling me to go to bleeding cool from some, as if, I somehow had a hp catch a cold, a nd it was ruined. Not that windows ten wasnt already a dagger it saw before it, as that and a DVD app, and photo apps not include in the free pace leaving much of my work mute as a starving Roman, downloaded caused a friction that left it useless, and this time, a quick restoration process, as it didn’t in Victorian England, didn’t work, and may have put things worse. So, without a funnel to the modern Delphi, I went upstairs into the attic into a pizzel maker Christmas box and found an old compact computer that has been lying there since at least when Nicky Tricky Sabin had yet to leave the dolphins that cold December night. I took it and cleaned it of my sisters imatched inquiries as she found she had been placed on a suckers list making me file that idea away for a rom com a bit more vicious and vituperative  than anything Sandra Bullock has ever done, story of my life as have been told I can be funny or I can be touching, but I cant be both. I took the lap top, not a fan thereof, anyway, and it works well enough since I got rid of the strange pictures the pleading I match, erectile dysfunction, on the make, dufuseses sent my sister, who were all looking, trolling, for a desperate broad, and downloaded my own stuff. But a cord and battery was gone, and works too, and all my stuff had been unrevealed since ten came out, so had to go to staples, the closest store that doesn’t have it but can order one, life on the ponderosa,  here amusingly enough I actually this time found what I needed, and put this haphazard computer together. But it took about 200 bucks all together to buy a new battery and works so I could read my stuff, something unable to do in windows ten which who knew they’d go Stromboli, that’s allowed as jewed down is not, and cheap out and make people get a free system and then nickel and dime them for cash needed app, showing the ethics, if Cresses is alive.

But because I had to do this and race about back and forth to staples who since Romney has and knows nothing, we don’t sell windows 7 I was told, wait what…?, and we never sold it, so there, but try office max an affable black gent said in almost whisper, as they have nothing ten computable. Oooohgnnnnnnphhha as pop said, but went here and there and in three days biblically put a box tougher to get on to modern Delphi and be on line, as we all must be. Why I hurried so is a mystery now, as in fact the September 10th deadline for these cartoons has come and gone without a notice, but still I must place this here as to show Warren and the Marvellettes I am invictus, or at least unbowed, and that again, there is decency to the Roman grease pencil, as graffito is after all, history of those men you ignore or shame, and I must make the Jesuits proud, at least a little bit. Silence met the work acceptable only weeks ago, but then does anyone ever look at this shit here before I hand something back in…? The quiet was Welcome relief. But the money spent to put this ad hoc box back together, meant that I was tapped, again, as have been all summer as an enclose of my own money is down to ones and fives again, and don’t feel like doing anything for money again. I wanted to go to the Pittsburgh comic con, but alas could not. Though when I said this, my brother who would have to drive me, said don’t be scared of seeing these comic creeps, Tony, don’t back down because those hacks and ninnies are there, or those comic queers, what is this, these sissies becoming elites now…?, they decide who can speak and where you can go, what are they bad asses now because no one is there to hurl them into lockers…? my brother was viably upset that I might have been intimated, which frankly I really isn’t, but just don’t have the cash or want him to spend it. I have the money he said, Ill pay for us to go if you’d want. No I said, I know he hates those sort more than I, though is more affable than Ill ever be, but I thought was tired out after a week of this back and forth and though as making a portfolio as an ultimate fuck you to the arrested development crowd, didn’t go.

I had to call a girl I knew, Queen Victoria, who is coming back from Paramus to be here, who noted to meet with me, and called her and sadly found myself walking away from the cute girl again, which serves me right. She will, if she even comes, will get a autograph from Lou Ferrigno for me, as she knows the story about how the dismissal of him and Stallone as uberman so imposed me as a kid that the idea of the body builder Italian superman was born, hence Roman Conan, no not that one, an antithesis to my beloved cc beck, but filial piety on display. In this I predicted the later image supermen and atomic wonder men, but again, I got there with much more panache and warmth. Though cant get a response from the comic hacks, really this is low level and the smell of sulfur if not sweat makes me ill, I do have an opening from a pulpish publisher for Rag, as the original Mario Puzo like paperback I envisioned, and have several floppies which holds it all, but pages in apache and brother wp, but i should get even by returning to words.

I watched the game on Thursday, though a fan on neither team, and turned it immediately when saw the con was on with how the black coach, like the black quarterback  before him, was devastated by the medusa of football, so vouched for by bathroom boys and Jews and house coons. As even Mud bone couldn’t stop googol eyeing long enough to ask the always seeing jealousy  everywhere in everything,  Kornehiser around him, always willing to come to Bellicheat’s defense, as it protects Tribesman Kraft, don’t think that isn’t involved, but Mudbone couldn’t make his fat lips curl to ask when clicking off dynasties for whom this wasn’t done, ah the names Landry and Americas team wasn’t mentioned, cause again, niggers are born con men and that was hitting too close to home. Lets ask if Landry was cheating, you know, between Billy Graham missions, shall we…? So again, I cant stand anything Roman when it becomes this Greek, and since calculation is only a half note from conniving, that

only a half note from cheating, and thus do rei mi, I said enough, and turned it off to some movie, as find your bad versions of Rome have bored even me, but then I know all the punch lines. But, this was spoken of all night, as he was warned by low rent, babblers, oh finally the threadbare bothers even Franciscan me, yow!,  one doesn’t want to look like a sore loser, the credo of cheats and bag men since Isaiah, or is it icarus...who cares. the coach finds his one honest moment as unheard, he is the latest  black victim of mister mind, Tom Terrific and Sharon the football circus owner, but I couldn’t care, but was glad to see it continue, as once you carry water, get ready for the dislocations to start, Marius barefoot Roman Clinton shaper than all the swells were, said with his usual wit, and this was a best f off in week needing them to all teach all step men who unromantically thought they just wanted to blood sports to start and begin, that Bellicheck like the Clintons would only stop when their act got stale, boring and repetitive to the circus land. Id say like Gore they’ll only stop with embalming fluid, but it will end long before that. As if that meant anything, as if, I Roman Antony , who saw that occupy and the tea party would have their revenge against ninny lipless wonder Barry, as if I, who saw the Clintons becoming the duke and duchess of Syracuse, he ends up strangling her over a scalped beautiful Italian woman he has destroyed for madam power-hungry, oh its all so Roman, but not quite, I made them not ready for Boccaccio players, back when lesbians were making fat jokes about a Jewish girl who didn’t matter, as though I didn’t know that just playing the games couldn’t indeed make everything worse.

02 September 2015


My mother didn’t much care about the way Brunettes started to be shown in this dreaded culture, after Jane Russell had to give way to a younger fatter more porcine and silly Marilyn. Who both were so drug addled as both used the other that with JFK, as Gore said, he no fan at the end of either, too Capote, said famously, neither could get an erection. Before it was spewed  against woman like Katy Perry, the transvestite slur was sued against no less than Garbo and Harlow and Marilyn, that they were all transvestites, which makes sense, as if one was  transvestite and needed to steeled in fakeness the first thing they’d do would be put on a blond wig. My mother could care less, she was not anyone’s war bride where, as told me Abortion beaconed less verboten in puritan America as soon as Italian wives wouldn’t use birth control, as again like spics cleaning  our imperial  toilets, in Sparta, the comparison is always a remnant of what those in power already want.

But my father, more than I, broiled at such shit, acutely Hanna Barbara, who he decried angered once I had a Fred Flintstone on golden book as a kid, a gift, as he was sure that these hacks wops did what company men did, and made sure Veronicas were always petulant and Wonder women clay Lesbos. I did see him sometimes watch Lynda Crater as a remnant of what he recalled the italic girls ere like as when he was a kid, those girls with the gates of goddesses that house wops like Romano would only use, if at all, as italic mistresses, or dead first wives, or left behind Beatrice’s, as the Jew playing the wop came to America to marry some blond or worse yet, some republican bitchy brunette everyone hates, as a way to get ahead in the old new world. He really hated Hanna Barbara knowing they were wops who did a business in such, and asked me once when I said that I thought of film as an art form or at least a business to get into, whattdayew wnana play pallacchi and uno grimmali all your life....? Dey aint no Beatrice’s dere, he told me once in English, knowing my Jesuitical proclivities, and sometimes I think of that old men as I gaze or cut a image of Wendy into my film as I realize I am more like him that not, which frightens me to bits. He would have loved her, though my mother was tall and lean and svelte, he loved the bombshell, especially the Italian bombshell with Boccaccio gusto. It is in our blood and any wop who sniffs after blond cunts like a Jew is merely trying to gain upwards mobility or whatever marring a Pollock can bring in Scorsese land.

But my father despised Hanna Barbara, as it seemed to him as a grimy Disney, worse than that, as they always made Pinocchio little Swiss boys though the story was based in Collodi’s Sicily. In the ancient  Yellow Books of my parentage, there was an edge that Walt left off as he seemed the truest danger and predator in the never true main street he helped to create, which like so much in my sophisticated age of youth, was bankrupt before Regan rebooted American bullshit better than any Constantine ever did. But It was Joe and William who bothered him and theirs versions shown when I was a boy that he sneered and fumed at, again, my mother who you’d think would be off put as she wasn’t meant to, couldn’t care less, as one of the point to be married to an older man, like Sophia, she said, was to quit getting pawed by Dago thugs, who as much as anyone, eschew the blond cream cheese queens for the Cynthia’s, Catullus’ Beatrice,  that even Puzo knew that they yearn for , especially to escape the carping fish wives made famous in television city. He despised these Saturday morning cartoons, I think he thought Archie was theirs too, as another Italian named De Carlo lost his love of the vavoomy scantily clad brunette cold war mistress, to make another go to in Veronica for good white girls and jewfish hacks to think somehow it was pretty brunettes who made their lives in high school unbearable, as they sharpened pencils and picked up handkerchiefs drooped by Kotex patrol blond cunts. He dispels this crew, especially the dreaded to him vulgar Flintstones, and wondered aloud how they could so openly rip off Ralph and Ed, or Top Cat Sergeant Bilko, who he was sure Phil Silvers was Italian. It made me laugh in a Spielberg cartoon about history that Machiavelli was given a Phil Silvers voice, and that in fact, not wanting Zero Mostel, the producers of a funny thing happened on the way to Forum wanted him, Silvers, Vaudeville incarnate, to play the scheming play writing Plautus ante hero. And to be fair the Jews were almost wiped out by one of sheik sultans who like the Spic conquistadors, and too, Jew killers we may not recall as they become a new race of saints, and most Jews left in the world, as said in my Gardens of Caesars are left from a lost tribe moved by Constantine to Sicily, which would make the sopranos a double infama, as Ma would say. I’m not white enough to need the Spanish as my pool boys or weed killers, as so with what the Italians have had to deal with since Copula first decided to make the mafia an opera in ways Robert Altman and Ilya could not, I don’t chew what I say about the spawn on Torquemada slave trades or hemispheric genocide, as I have never much like the American ethic of compassion coming so closely with making sure you truck in trash who don’t know the English word for Unionize. 

2. On  a you tube video I watched as it was recommended to me , you know as the ghost of Jobs is out there watching, calibrating, herding us all towards what the carnival barkers think we want, I saw the aged and still brilliant Gore Vidal discussing the work of Italian master Italo Calvino. Now, like all Italian geniuses and or Hesperian pretty girls’ for some reason, an insurgent coasted antipathy towards anything this brilliant must be done, as somewhat like Niggers, Italians are only acceptable when on like Law and order they are buffoonish bloated befuddled sweat peaked morons eating Jared less grinders now, as this America the land of the free and the home of the typed. In this clip, some Indo Augean Indian Indian, like Persians they are perpetually telling their white woman tropes what they are not, as do their in laws, and in this clip, this Ravishman, this subject of the crown, kept trying to imply and infer that if he wasn’t a spic, that somehow Calvino was a French writer. It was inconceivable to this nut brown Sheikh for Calvino to have been slotted into a Italian literature, which he had become, as Calvino admitted in his brilliant essays, went back to Ariosto, who doesn’t even get the credit for his Catherine’s,  or in law jokes, much less his Angelina’s. Still, such is life in the new Reich, with only a higher caliber of writer such as midnight child Salmon to admit that Calvino was a giant, as the goody white chicks like their magic realism with a healthy does of darkest green. Gore admitted as much that if he was a Latin American, emphasis on the Latin, he didn’t unlike sepia trash like Marquez really coon it up with Marxist leanings paradisiacal bullshit, proffering a paradiso to any inland happy nation of happy days carburetors and ruined foutainblues. Calvino did write a compendium, unlike the Jew York times I try at last try to sue the Latin words a close as a bar bar language can come, called Italian Folktales, as a Grimm’s of the Apennines, but then, once dealing with the middlebrows, as the lefty hand shuffle is father out of sight, you gets what you gets.

A self appointed sheapard of the republic, another disk jockey theologian, another radio head, named Preager, I heard booming out as sunup caused local stations to become more powerful, as he as speaking to some hack, a scribbler for Christ, someone who I take it left Time and Luce to be at the ruin called natl Review, who had of course written a book about their favorite subject good vs. evil. Mostly this is less like the Aquinas idea than good is something that pays compound interest in the bank of America as I said, and evil are those rats that live worse than even the blacks of New Judea, without even a college system of blood sports to left their sinking boats. Why was this booming out so early I thought, another’s station, once of Doug and Bev and Phil Musick to be gobbled up as the Christers make America safe for whatever they wish to make America safe for, though dominate for thirty years still like playing as they did in ancient Rome, when Paul insisted to the slave holders, they re in positions of power, and like to keep that self amen interest and returns even in the great beyond.

This hack went on and on about Marxist theory, as with some Romans the worse thing that could happen was Carthage being destroyed, and after all it was more fun and more Virgilian of a struggle when good old Russia was there with its Bolshoi everything’s, as they didn’t see fit to cut the throats, if they’re lucky, of ballerinas, and like Peter the great wished to be a new Rome, rather than to destroy it. German thought was a nilist drag on humanity, well tell me something I do not know, as no matter how many Luther’s and or baptisms in rivers take place,  at that wasteland of Germania will ways be populated with white niggers hanging in trees, wishing to burn their way to Corsica, always for no discernable reasons. There had to be Italians and Jews thrown in to this, of course, what it being Sunday, the Roman day of rest , and sacred to the sun god, get it, Catha, see...?, and so knowing they audience, they behave to lay it on thick lest the in laws get upset. Something about the dread Milton, only Beowulf is worse, as again somehow Western Civilization has become Judea Christian, so fuck you Greeks, much less the Arabs, as both hate Scheherazade. In this group of middlebrows thinking it learned, a telling moment happened. In decrying  this all about schools, how nilistic they had become, evasively on those days Lee Corso  wasn’t cooning it up and whopping it up amid the bongs and drunken rapists, ah the Romans will always be with us, you Semite bastards whether you like it or not, so like Paul, fit that Koran accordingly for eternal city acceptance, or else, this buffoon Preager in low growl, admitted that those cretins know there is no ultimate truth. I’d say natural law, but again its more Roman than not, and nether is no man and no woman. I wonder if it was heard by this pompous stooge as it as heard by sleepy me, as that proviso, of no man no woman sound faintly echoing. Who else said that, no man no woman, the alpha and the omega, the wholeness of things...oh that’s right Ovid, and since it as in a Roman book of the first century, Jew baby Jesus havening been steeped in Jewish effrontery early, used it as he used so much, showing again, if you think Christ was a radical, well, you must be stupid or went to Holy Cross, or…

I had enough of this, and lowered this shit down, as the days of Julian as a new York times best seller list was over, as even then, though in open warfare with Vidal over the city and the pillar, they expect their fags dying in Venice, see elsewhere about how Jews and white woman already have the tragedies and HBO cartoons they wish for us all to live out, and I decided to get up earlier than Id like. Funny that this book, castigating the American educational system ,was coming out just as ESPN as already shilling and pushing its new years days slate of games, all as pointed towards this I guess, though as lately too hot to even think about Football unless a house coon or Jew or goon of ESPN, much les to think about left over Christmas and saturnalia decorations dustily on the walls as the football games were going on, maybe again on a channel as we watch those watching television, which is what I guess TV as always headed towards all along. Like Fraud and the ubermench this again as one of the horrid thoughts that comes out when Germany thinks itself anything more than the Apaches triumphant, the thin layer of civility on the spawn of those who lived in trees, and who broke civilization once and think of it as their golden age. I was still resentful at those comic hacks and their sanitized paternalism white woman bullshit, their dark peach melba deign 2 marker Race bating, their deep engrained white woman hatred of the stoic hero as they bitch at other cunts about the fan boys America is lousy with as they check their dating apps. Ah the point Roman Tony has been making all along, say what you’d like, but these women even fat lesbians now dream of marriage, and nothing but, Michelangelo’s rooms and walls recalled by strips explaining Sadie Hawkins day, these hags are devoted to their first dance, even the fagots now shot gunned married, we’ve come a long way since the bathes, as no the knocked off lil Greek boys ash made it to CNN where he shines his ways through the last cop killing until told to knock it off seated next to the rainbow coalition of prosecutors, as gay marriage itself, moving the ball like a crooked Belicheat always to be played on a tilted playing field. Only the Romans thought sports were the one thing you shouldn’t cheat it, as then, what is the point of if you could Jew your way to a championship,... Thumbs down.

3. But speaking of our Vanderbilt and his la cote Basque conception, as what becomes a legend more in Capotes tomb in new York, really it should be a city monument, as Andy and the best of the shills try so hard to Newter Trump, who I egg on as if a sox less Roman tired of the swells and their shit stuffed pigs. On the channel of sanction and persona non grataing, between the railroading’s, there was a show about to them heinous talk show host and nothing more than that, Morton Downey Junior who was always funny and admired by me, for that worst of all sins, passion amid the silencers and the fags, as like in much, the Italianate properties of Jersey are to be made fun of with a cardinals airs, much less be given voice to, as the Italians it turned out became the first and best Serfs. Knights too, but then thanks to Disney, Hollingshead and Lucas we call anybody but Italians as that. 

On the film, slightly more demeaning and emasculating than the on done on Rodger Ebert, but not by much, as the middle everything’s have their Mortons made relative in every fall, Morton as shown as if, and with kill bill cartoon magna reactions mind you, some sort of mischievous phantom menace, who thank god was killed off, allowing the good ivory towers  at Turner Broadcasting to go from Andy Griffith marathons and Marythons and that girl reruns after the Braves lost games again to being the arbiter worthy of Fared shilling us the news from Davos masters. Morton was defiled and emended, why He liked sex with guuuurls, once could hear Andiepoo almost swoon with da vapppahs, and he was a cigarette smoking demon  from Milton himself, how like all the English fagot sued Kemeter tunneling up from hell to his own petty barbarian arts, but again as Gore said, without the good parts. As Eve was never no Turan, even if a brunette I believe in this book to really sell the Pandora aspects. Morton was thankfully another victim to middlebrow, another sacrifice on the alter of decent and nobility and fake  grace and acceptable humor, the antithesis of satire, sorry,  and faggy and salon pause, with Andie as its newest queer national scold, and Morton far too Secaucus and new jersey like for a Vanderbilt to get behind, hooo boy!, as  his ivory tower showed it took a while, but the Roman arts of the slurring slimming biography is the best shiv in a land of political knives. Morton was from  time immemorial, recast, resented, they had it seemed run out of targets of Vanderbilt slime, as we have finally found Gloria Vanderbilt Junior at last, and Capote is dead and buried at if not wounded knee, the Manhattan 53rd street Y, or maybe the parking lot at tavern on the green. Mort, like maybe Truman too, was too rambunctious for the age of Imult telling his soon to be floored Pollock’s to get off the free trade kick, as that was going through as  all republics die, as in the age of Obama are a fate accomplished, and don’t you forget it, but then, again, that’s why the interregnum that gave birth to both occupy and a tea party  is having stadiums filled now for the socialist and  the plutocrat, as Trimalchio is the bathroom, and finally, the nation of Beulah’s isn’t as fat and happy as it sued to be. Glenda Beck continues his step man assault against Trumpy as he did Newt, ah but alas, perhaps the people are so whipped and beaten down that only your Gods are mute, anode they won’t let a little drunkard lead them again to you getting paid off.

But I must come to the defense of Morton Downy, at least it was something to watch on a indigent wor, as opposed to the shining calculus that Andy gushes at us, spurting out of the human dick, each day as he is one moment Cronkite, one moment giggling like a school girl, Uriah heap tear ducts always at the ready, our mole is always on stage, he lives his part, does Gloria junior, Cornelius shame, one can only imagine the ox bow incident that that house was, confederate swords on the wall, moose heads and boys being payed off if not buried before anyone thought they were missing. I have never been a fan of the gothic. But all the time he is irritatingly close to the guy who tells us about hotel rooms via trivago. See, of course as a mouth for heirs, hose wop called Bianculli who has made a career out of being  a low level Shelby for the first draft civil war series  that is cnn, came on and threw a half eaten grinder at the grave of Morton, take that, as Bianculli is the worst sort of wop, a house company man who will parade Mussolini and or Stalin as that Jew York times hack did, just don’t send me back to Providence kind of wop and he trashed Morton, as who doesn’t go to television to find their deep thinking...? Oh as with Hogan’s heroes, the wop must always make sure he spits way downwards lest he hit a white woman on the way up, this house wop, this house everything’s as disparaged Morton, as we soon enough find less bombastic, their favorer word for those they hate here, bust still not too far from the sound effects they love in Sparta that reclaimed and remake war, and a Joisey Jew doing incessant wop shit would be fine, like Limbaugh who knows that in the land of the hypocrite, the soliloquy is  the only speech. Concurrently as Mort did, let others speak, always a no no,  and lettings someone else spoke is something they try to avoid. You know like Limbaugh burping into the mike, who ability to shoot down trail balloons made him worth his pudgy weights in gold.

But, the Ivory togas trashed Morton so for giving a voce to the bridge and tunnels, no Kemeter here, you'll stay in Jersey Inferno only coming up to be in law and order or from that as  a farm team play similar unbeautiful creatures in HBO wop comedies, and that's it, was not the sparkling tower of Etruscan brilliance and helmets that the wolf men Romans could so easily demean as we sue the same rewards to this day, but what don't we...? See, while Morton was being destroyed by those who like their discusser's soft and clean and Greek and decent and civil, you know, like Cross fire, hated first by Jewry jonnie all ways on the look out as diva for a Keith getting too close to the stage, I recall what was happening in the feral street world that Turner likes thinking of as his own private Duchy now that he has made it up from both slavery and the UHF dial. See, while Morton was playing out the Tragedy all Irishmen must and are more willing to play than the Italians, they  who bite back more than the Jews would like, see The Gallery by John Horne  Burns elsewhere here, this House of Cooper, this la Cote Basque of wor services, this Paddy Chaivsky nightmare, back when Morton was doing flag shticks, this channel as  it likes to, destroyed peoples lives, as Turner like Kane knew the true etches of journalism,  as that the headline is big enough...see, while Morton as doing his Roman Forum bit, as passion is not only not catching they try to keep it like weapons germs in frozen boxes, this channel was destroying the lives of people on this say so of children held up above the crowds and made to tap dance at recitals, as if a basketball honey showing the visiting Negroes what they had left behind lest swing through San Anton. For no reason but ratings and kirons, and drags and tickers and breathless reporting while not mentioning aids, and maybe too, as the Jesuit priests  trashed too, was all there to fit a Reganite narrative of God hating fags and Arabs, both delineated in your faggot Aeneid called a bible. This was as I recall, an arson but boisterousness, with no disernable evidence but goaded kids, with ten year olds mugging for the camera, Turner and his goofballs, already warning all about the depraved and queer, see above stranger dangers, ran with overheated Pulitzer worthy Jewish scapegoats, as eventually Jewey Jonnie would make sure the ethic was trash anyone, anyone but me. I always wondered why affable Kramer was so trashed by our Juvenal, when they were questions better asked of his own brother, but then when getting satirists from banking famines one does it, as the Tuscans said, fer a reason.   

This witch hunt played into their sirens and flashiness, dangers around every wall, others who had never done anything but be in the way of a CNN camera were jailed, in America inc., witch hunting which CNN exploited and ran with womanish glee, soon enough wed  find out most children abducted were done not by the town preevert, but in fact by family members, which hell, the killed wife would be another mitzvah and a cash cow for the always news channel, as it becomes like flash Gordon astronuaghts in neo deco drag reading the upwards sloped recaps that tell us just where Ming is as opposed to yesterday. As lest we all know now was never found better Jewry revenge on queer sex than marriage. As I recall too, the myth of heterosexual aids, and how Rabbi Medved once said that marriage, with , and get this Saint Timothy, adult circumcision, Yeeeeeooooowwwwwwsww! were the best antidote to aids, and abstinence too, of course,  too, which works for everyone, as god know Jews invented asking balloons reading,  if I can kiss you here. While Morton was diving from the sky and flew too close to The Jersey Turnpike,  on wings made of Three holed  paper, CNN was dredging peoples lives with the barest and  blackest of brushes, a scarlet letter like no other, maybe aids even in gay land, while Morton was doing shtick going back to Barry Farber, and Long John Neville, these decent and clean and honest and wonderful lethal journalists were having men put in jail, at the worst possible part and time, as aids was a Reagan era cleansing, to the point that when the later Vatican like vacating of these sentences  happened, the words Mc Martin would never said again by agreement,  you know like Galileo, and the 100 million dollars lawsuits which came from the accused, we all are in Turner world, and he gave it a rest with the right wing bullshit cleaned up his once more fascist and rah rah act and he started to lay it on thick with the crap about the environment and retardos games. So please, lecture me not, and tell Bianculli to go give cover for the next wop minstrel show, as he is want to Do. 

4. It made my mother laugh to see a picture surfaced of Regina Victoria she calls her majesty meanly, Elizabeth, of the queen as a child my mother's age at the times, giving this same salute to IL Duce that my ma had to give every morning as a fascist era schoolgirl. There was a meeting between IL Duce, The doge, and American Pope Roosevelt, and so such things as the WPA and the proto Roman war refitting of the new deal were and American law. Yet gain, like letter to Mussolini from Churchill, this as signal that Engelterra as she calls it, was not as averse to Fascism as it now preens to be, and the fact that this image disappeared even from the daily mail and other bullshit lefty English newspapers show the con is as big as all, as the Italians knew, and that everyone in a con is devoted to it no matter what they pretend. That picture was taken down quickly as again, fuck you Paradise lost shit heads and right wing dirt and radiating fuck's, as eventually when something truly threatening to big con happens, all are on deck. Virgil less. This told me much, as there is only so far the radical at least now and in the besotted went goes, not tunneling up or down from Averno’s anymore, as the state system is here and gods help anyone who says anything about it, which is why Augustus salute on Regina Lizzabetta came down, lest anyone know what arcane everything is and or was. Evil is something you carry, and who really needs to know that decent and Nobel Liz was like most of her family giving a fascist salute. But whatever, she and who however takes over for her will, like Arthur, the Roman general, sorry, take an oath that like Augustus they are Prince of the Romans, an oath begun by not Caesar, but Charlemagne. But like the morning invocation, that's mere pageantry anyway. At least that's we tell those nebshit Jews from the ACLU. When I saw Fox, of course try to piggy back the now hollowed out Games of thrones, as Tolkien baronies start to make the  people gag on the burlap, It told me what I felt this summer best, as good fellows seems on every other day. I hate your Germania here, your lil Reich, your duchy of New York, your Morton less over washed bathroom gnats giving us sophists news when not quietly dropping the queer from round tables  for having been caught getting payments from law firms to push gay marriages out of nowhere.

Ah, but niggers, please, I know what this country is ‘bout as after a summer of sanctimony and your flag burnings. Turner, that paragon of virtue, he made it a point, though think I missed the Sophia Loren day as thought I saw the Italian Garbos smoldering face on  promo as adore her De Sica era movies, a magic reali--no wait, what was it again, neo realism, anyway, somehow missed her, but saw that despite what you niggers think, or attempt, like the picture of Elizabeth Regina making the salute to Rome, a salute like everything tarred and ruined by Germany, what aint...? In this summer as the usual red meat hurlers through memo and firings try to give us the Montagues and the Caplets, again with the good parts taken out, Turner showed Vivian Leigh day, and thus showed the beautiful English actress in Gone with the wind, so much for the black censors matter movement , what dreadlocked up paper bag loser was gonna say shit, Casper the friendly Coon...?, who would roll their eyes, what nigger would dare say shit,,...? oh there must have been an emergency meting at the Raccoon club sur, a meeting o dee ncaapp at the dog track and sho nuf, old ghost o Jack Warner came to say hideooohooo and back off before you coons git it good. Yasssir! , as it was restored no less and shown brazenly, and what will you coons say about it...to your master Ted, the first drunken vilest nasty teddy bear, what will you say. This is why I hate you mothers, and so much, you're so full of shit, as see Turner didn't spend a Billion dollars to get his grasping hands  on the dukes of hazard or even the Godfather, as that son of the confederacy like you all couldn't give a fuck about jersey and to you hicks and trash, Rhett and Scarlet are your Dante and Beatrice. 

I Saw the last post elicited some anger from the hacks at that nigger comics womanish bullshit, and told them in no uncertain terms, don't lecture me, go fix your fucking page when you ask for submissions, or don't bother. Instead of playing businessman, act professionally, which none of you ghettoized comics hacks seem able to do, as unlike a vocation, comics always to me was a low level resume line and little more. And as you expect  from cunts and sissies who make a point that they hate masculinity,-- lets all go down to the planned parenthood and watch the grimmest plebeians drink some blood--, as opposed  Bill C and Alan Moore, who thought a Roman Conan was just what the Dottore ordered. They forewords a f off missive to other to them, sent then to an  some  English  school boy who kept bothering me to some justify what I ha said to them, as if it as any of this cretins sissy business, but in the verboten slurs he spouts angrily back at me , one I mentioned was left out, ...paternalistic. Ah, the censurer is the first man so cleansed, why Clinton wouldn't as they say take the deal, as couldn't allow the assembly of queens to so berate him with their sanctimony, another Roman fortissimo that Warren and his draculettes have never heard of. I have been very affable and nice with most the comic guys, but I truly dispise old Warren and his boys life bullshit and his crap, as tell our schoolboy to write another turgid, yes they adore red, like Nero, floppy about assassins, an anathema like drones are to my Roman creed. Go write about killers again, sissy, youll get what you deserve, as if youd ever held a gun, as if you wouldnt shit your pants. 

I resented having to explain anything, this creep making me think someone had posted something to bleeding cool in my name, --as fucking if--on their bullshit website, showing the ethics of a comics reporters in whole, and eventually told him to hose off, co coo coo coocoo coo coooo coocoooo cooo co cooocooo, that epithet saved for only the wealthy and the poor, and which the middlebrows never can do. Another day wasted when I would have rather been at a film noir festival or a jersey summers stock doing Cattilines War by Saliari, so again, the comics hacks are getting really on my nerves. The saddest part of the week though, as Terence the Roman writer said,  the sad is the enemy of tragedy, think about it, was that the Isis, no not Archer but more inept, blew up and trashed a Roman city, that had survived all the earlier eons of Arabs acid reigns. Oh you must be the born again types, A great refusal indeed, they will get theirs, an Ertiwan shall rise, I say, and Assad knows deep down that no one will come to Syria to see your teeming tenements, as you niggers never understand when the spooks who sit by door go native. A cute bronzer sweating white chick afternoon yak named Brook Baaaarrrrwyn on CNN, very Suburban sexy, oh my, as Sulu says, she works a dress better than sexless Egging Meggin ever will, spoke of this, as think she is the closest thing to CNN has to minor league blond Foxessss, and she sensed as legit in her sadness at the house of Anderson and his emoting at yew, immediately sad, as the Arabs show they dream of a Germanica as that Roman hack I guess did.  With the dark ages descending now you’ll  know who and why to hide and mattress yourselves and to resist in the suburbs of God, like Augustine, despised by priests and thus loved by married Parsons, even who like Jefferson never had a library without Virgil in it. As all you niggers can do is decay and efface, which will I warn get on every ones last nerve. In an election year, every day is Columbus day, and you Bart cop killers’ Roman triumphs are left to the unemployable, something that the yentas of power know.  I am the auger, also saw Madame Ligosi gleefully eating bachala when like in Ancient romance, a bunch of guideless niggers were extolling a killer of cops, not even in San Francisco, where the cops are needed as the fags there have bullhshitted and mastered and servanted their ways to the highest property values in America, where its easy to play Aging Hippy behind a gate and a wall.  I'm sure they blew it up, this Roman ruin, not knowing what was unleashed, as the Giotto frescoes came down in inches right before nine eleven, as Gore noticed in a book at his age and stature he couldn't get published, something about perpetual war for...humm. The Arab traders saving assuredly enough Diana treasures to sell, as after all Moslems no matter how devout are still Arabs, and lovers of geld. A Roman city surviving Mohammad and sultanas and  Sulimans who never bothered to bulldoze, was now destroyed, wink wink, get the moma on the phone, by Arab scum, and I thought as warned the comic book hacks, and too the American political system, who thought themselves able and free to use the Roman works to their benefits, don't fuck with the Roman goddesses of Drama, ass wipes, don't damn the Roman ethics, kiddies, or you'll get it. Barefoot Camilla Maddow girls with spit curls, barefoot running over the water, leave it to Jew baby to merely walk, and zaftig angelic Wendy’s, spilling out from chain mail, a roman innovation, bikinis, decked out with the avian the wings of golden eagles, la Aquila, will eat out your guts, as you wont be able to make out the drones sent, by the wings of manias blotting out the apostolic sun. Don't make the same mistake Gödel made, who's annuls Horriblilus is lasting longer than it might have had the Cowboys won.