11 March 2016

Pencils













 
Throwing away nothing, I thought of using an Aunt Frizi satire I did of a pretty ex starlet  with two children she cared for suddenly made a gumshoes secretary in  a prequel of my comic world, and brought into a Mike Hammer world, a cute idea I never completed, like so much. 

I re did some of this added some ideas, the middle aged Odin Valentine, as an Orson, the Hollywood millue, the killing of an Arthur Lake like Dagwood beginning it all, and such, as was invited to insert some pulp noir comics into a collection. However, was told It couldn't be my Rag, as that was copy-written, by me, and that was that, I had too make something up. While doing this got a sense of things , and kept at it, until reasoned though as told I had to return to Facebook, they hadn't gotten back to me yet, as others who hadn't asked me to go to Facebook surely have, so I dropped it. 

There are things I cant do, and I find out and out grave robing is one, as there are things I cant get myself to do. I left a message on Facebook for these hacks, like the lesbians, so upset by a Roman hero, their circumspection is a ruse. Still from this have a script for a noir festival invited to, and can only sue the name Captain Marble, with aplomb, as the hero crated by Odin Valentine, as though he exists as a parody in Get Lost I think, satire magazine, I did as a ten year old think myself quite the wit in ovo for coming up with that name as a first go to for what became Captain Magnus, so think its mine even if not. But, found I cant do another line, right now, a long cold lonesome winter, the months unnamed by the early Italics, spent with Max and Caroline showing the world out there, and was invited to place a comic, again not Rag or hero of any kind , to a collection looking for scifi and fantasy, which am not in the mood for. But thinking about doing a Franzetta like comic, a Heavy metal Serpieri Druuna of my own, so, went too a site I knew had images of these Seventies comics and like sexual and heroic images by various ethnic men. This alleged cartoonist decries these old days, the Sixties no less, as some sort of dark age, oh what klansmen we all were before voting for Queen  Dido, eventually you know after not, and this is sanctimony that obviously has gotten  under everyone's  skin. He went on and on, each railed against as Racist, ah the tar of later Dimsdales, racist all the new tsarists that the fat co eds preach about before and after but not during drunken game days, or the kind of shows Hitler would have approved of. I liked Cracked as a kid, found it a lighter,  less pompous, less hypocrites Mad, and so looked up image of the great Bill Ward, who of course along with Oh Wicked Wanda,  adored by me as a young cartoonist as a high point of the art, oh how they were trashed by this middle aged truant now on the road to Damascus, or is it Valhalla, or what could be the difference, once the Jews are paid not to bitch about our Thors. He ripped these cartoons apart  for racism, in a pretty black girl being drawn by Ward as he drew woman, as its racist, especially when you don't draw them blond. Yechh, I thought, but again saw the flaw in their middle brow middle spread argument.As a great cartoonist at Cracked, Rodriquez, a shake lined master who also worked at Lampoon as did Ward and Olcheck , so much for quotes around Art, what me funny...?, he did a back cover great moments in history in which a Italian cartoon crafts a wheel with purple fake feet on it to smash grapes at a higher rate, and thus Guido Calvaanti or some name like that invents the assembly line in 1846. Cute and almost true. But the magnanimous Whistler didn't deign or wish or even act to place his contract need to tel us what is racist, before showing it all again, which makes me wonder what does that make you...? Again, another Cracked had as a boy was an issue devoted to crime in which a Capone like gangster painted by Sevrin is walking along wearing an armory as the janitor looks on, again a cute image. But, again, the albuminous arbiter of all which si so decent and noble is silent here as he was at the stomping grapes joke, which shoos again, sanctimony always falls apart as I as a boy was warned by smarter unmarried queers, than around now, as eventually there is something or someone that the clerks of decency do not want to make their arguments for, and don't even think to do and are thus trapped. I couldn't abide this hack and his parapet of self righteousness as again it always falls apart when you need the Italian too laughingly be the last minstrel  show and or Western or blood comedy that you have left. He wishes to put down the age of Aquarius because the cows and fruits now are I SEE WILLING to allow Khan to go from virile and dignified Spanish speaking actor to English schoolboy, same as making the Joker a meth head, showing the American creed.

I must make note that Johnnie Manzel was cut today by a half breed high yellow house negro who , as they are want, always , like playdo on four color comics, take up the antipathy of the white trash  who own them. You did your praetorian jobs, oafs , Jews, white boys, fags and niggers, and I cant wait till September when this coon high yellow as he is runs into the buzz saw called the Rooney Curia. Smerch, or whoever runs the NCAA had a hard on for Johnnie since a dollar sign made as that brought questions of why higher education while lecturing us about cartoons it finds unacceptable, dont pay its gladiators like the Romans had. Johnny was supposed to be a Cowboy, yo spit in fates eye,  and the deceitful little hacker heart of Drama adoring Jerrah knew as much, he was prepping for his close up,  before his ever so thoughtful son  put in a name of another Lineman, and how well did that work out when you had a second great wall of Dallas with no one behind it. Gee, Jerrah, would you have gone 0-7 with magic Johnnie on the bench last year, but then I dont slur circus as a pejorative, as do house coons on sports television when they are not yucking it up with veracious rapists, whose true crimes are never notified by Broad city, seventies penthouse pet, cutie pie Sarah Spain in her luckies tinted voice, as again she recalls in me all which I fear lost as we have a praetor who openly cant show up at a state funeral but will give rites for any pimp not shot in Chiraq. Now see we Romans boys we know the score of draughts as Bill C, shit Negroes, not only go to a funeral and play Cardinal well, for an extra fiddy hell give the Eulogy. Its the Antony is us. The age of clerks might be over, as the SSTrump steams along, with his enemies devastated, when he crashed past the memorial Imperial Robert C Bird bridge and viaduct,  and he sped on as again an Italian could have told you, sanctimony is the worst sin a circus can commit. Oh wicked Wanda must be somewhere else, and think of not doing another job after so many fell through. This is the golden age...? We are the mods we are the mods we are we are we are the mods....

06 March 2016

THE LAST ACT OF BRUTUS.







ACT I

As I have intimated before, took the advise of boyhood hero Neal Adams on Facebook, and collected a myriad of pencil outlines of bodies in motion and building block marionettes of pencil, to get things done quickly as easily instead of drawing everything from scratch, as I sued to do to be, you know, ethical. I cut and paste these images here and there, and get a six pager out in a matter of days. It works, as I would think, and so issue these genetic body types to make whatever script I am given, and can pound it out forthwith and with ease. But this does mean I am not as able or as capable of a flight of whismey where or there, and have even taken egads...! to tracing, no literally tracing images, which when gotten down I must go over again and make look like my own work, as I must have some flourish that makes the grunt work of comics look like I did it and not someone else. As if it looks like one by someone else, what would be the point...??


In this vein, I bought a shit load of image comics from eBay, for like ten bucks, a parcel of forty and though much of the art is atrocious, still I like the general millue of it all, and did take occasional images I then access and re-size ti look more like they are my work. In this bought a complete run of Supreme, pre the grand Kemeterian, its like a Satanist with a sense of humor, Alan Moore, and can see how a lovely Asian comics gal saw in my own mister stupendous a glimmer of this. Though now decried and demeaned, not when I was in art school I never kept to the always ear to the ground valued costumers who think of what is cool more than Pilate thought what is truth. And, a lot more than these scuzzy creeps should, I saw a loveliness in these overt vulgar pages that have I HAVE USED to make up ground in the need and wants now for a resume to show my workman ethics. In these supreme books, the only character who seems at all human and humane, is the brunette Lady inverse of the character as was told I too did something to the usual woman hero in my pow girls and vundergals, however now, in our school marms World, the essayists are dead and the housewives who remain like strangely antiseptic nuns in covens, sorry convents, witchcraft was sued as a big reason why Brother Martin got rid of nuns and grappled them with wives for priests, like you are art to do now with queers, and therefore we are raggedly hectored by cunts on cable television who shriek at their own jokes about the evils of a Wonder-woman, once on the covers of Time and Ms, back before Barry the nigger queen and the radical Sikhs war dancers doth made investors of us all. I cant utensil the true carbon paper arts of copying these lovely images and eye ball it as they are quite nice, near mint, and though I am sure they'll be worth nothing, still refuse to cut them up as I have the more newsprint qulaiteis of nineties marvels, they seem too very nice to cut into colorful bits.


I have turned away from the circus atmosphere of the political race, as again I dont use that as a pejorative, as if everything in a land which lays it on thick about how compassionate and decent they are between hospital strikes which never bother the decent as much as a joke told in private. I don't use Circus as a insult, not as much as the middlebrows and the out and out Clytemnestra like bribed do, as a good Franciscan student, I was made to read the black saint of the black pope, again not racial, as everything isn't about white trash max comfort seasons of foundations telling the nigger were to shuffle and not, not always being too close to Rhamoulous and or the loop. I recall Mach the knife saying that the political as perfected and as minstrel by the beloved Romans as much as anyone, that in fact, the politician according to him, was closer o the Roman farce than would ever be to Greek tragedy, and that anyone who thought the political wanst askance, vulgar venial and pratfalled, that anyone who thought the political was a church, or that it owed more to the Greek tragedy than the Roman comedy was reaching for his own destruction. Or hers, as the case may be. Hmnn, the bloated drunkard idiot sons of scions families made it in whereas the mean sad smart calculating ones all levers and cogs, seem to be at wits end, and do not understand this bromide, which like all Italian things seems like a lie, but is true.


This is why I have gone all in with Kat and Beth and their new defazio and feeney acclimation as against the droning of various Jews and blinds hemorrhoids on the body politic, angered openly, made stupid by their needs like I was warned of my admiration of a well turned ankle, still amazingly tine deaf as their champions they seem irritated that that the people still have a voice. There is danger in jewey Daly news rag merchant Mortie and Karl Rove reining so openly on the side as Rachael Maddow and GE theater, as it now a mess of sicidal mission, kamikazes instead of Roman turtles, to show as I have known since Bob gates didn't have to clear his desk after the niggeralaia confetti swept away, that it appears sadly you're all on the same side. As I have said as Barry and his shamelessness has poisoned your bloodstream with effete germs, at least pretend it matters. I make a sign to ward away the devil, at least the Jewish one, speaking Greek tragedy , have my own in Kemeter and don't need this Jew baby shit, as they are so openly deamneing and dismissing the will of the people, that eventually they can only be as Machiavelli said, racing towards the end of the crevasse, when all the rats re downed in pools of Neroian bloody fountains, which when that happens and the Tyber ran red, always a sign, you know, when the clerks cant even keep the leaves out of the aqueducts, that the slate shall be wiped clean, so have you fun now girls. I did hear that the Beagle bros, the sons of Katie Murdoch, have been godparented in, they paratropped into a glass temple, that the usual con of fox news has grown weary and stale, and no Doc Simon to clean it up and make it clear, and so, it appears that the last starw was putting a blond entombed in pancake and lip gloss an understudy who has made herself the Merm, was more than America could bear, and that in fact that giggling gawking hag, certs ad commercial Virginia slims ad before cigarettes became verboten as so much did once the fags were all dead, was more than Americans even deserved.








It was said on the great Charlie Rose that the Penguin left, Billoh, is very much not enamored of our ice queen Frozen minded blond cunt news queen, showing again as Network makes its appearance on TCM again, that Paddy Chievsky again the Plautus aspect that satire is just a reality that gets its own jokes, and is self aware in ways that great script once seen as prescient, abot where news was heading now in a few years seems almost quaint, as all satire must. I found it amazingly venial and awful when Rachel Maddow as mouthing the same words about the despised Trump as Bush was, as Frank Rich was saying the same taking points as equal Napoleon the pig Rove was, ah whats bilge and cries alone ...and that somehow this smiling smirking laughing cow holy cross roller Matthews was out there swimmingly unapologetic ally unable to continue his usual bar crawling and political sludge as Hillary lost bad and it w according to him, a tough night. Why is it tough for you, what do you care, ah but I guess like as at Northwestern, the least thing they taught the niggers and lace curtain Irish at the middle American dumping grounds was the clear Jesuitical eye I was honed to have.


There is no over arching propensity this time as there was in 2008, when jokes about the deary Paylin weer seen as something I could sue to gain notice, and then when brought that eye to the equally porcine, maybe worse, Hillary in her decades like fight against mental heath, well that was far too much and any chance at making IN THIS GOLDEN AGE went up in the smoke of legal weed, rice and dove shit from various gay marriages, with mingling in the stratosphere with soot from men unnoticed dying in wars this ninny always accepts at half a loaf, unnoticed burning men as you shoved queer weddings up our ass, which have leveled off as the further we all gt from the days of neupauls it seems the less and less faggots wish to come out and be so married, which shows it was never going too have the staying power of Trimlchios bathes as I sort of guessed all along, but then I was eared by that caliber of men since 1972.





 ACT II.









 I was sumerially told I had somehow tricked them, having an opinion that they didn't want or accept. As the eye I gave to the Barry vs Hillary fandango as they thought I could like activists and stupid woman and stash who were on NBC that I would be a good little wop, and attack on their command and more importantly, shut up when told. Well, as I told them, not at these prices dear, as their Bacchic Bullshit meneorgaoh machine wasn't going to make or break me. So, with that I pay no attestation outside of a Cattilinian admirers love of cahoots and Roman garffistst adoration of Trumpie fucking the elites over, with the occasional thumbs up that I hear like Augustus before Marcus Agrippa, fatso Rodger Ails having to be brought from Lunch to beg for his job before the brothers who aren't as devoted to the whole propaganda mill idea as is their father, who to be fair awloed the Simpson and such to have their say, showing that the queer devotion of twerps at like the GE theater and the racial one step above mimeograph machine northwest devotees are always gong to be out of the real money anyway. One thing about me as as I said, I can get an audience, that most Roman of ideals, and am surroundd by Greek and Jews alwas at lent, all out to destroy the populist Trump, with cripple steely Dan leading the way, still unaware that eventually they will get their Easter of fears and ins, being seen as touchy against the will of their in laws and goys. A touching scene I was told I wrote, by a Jewish fellow who liked me much, like many a woman from afar but wanted no part of my dick as it were, in this case my collected warbling as lets say sweaty and needy, in the play In The Gardens of Caesar , when, oh I love when the Jews get theirs, Constantine s minister of war, a Jew named Gaius, is placed on the list by the horrid bishops now thinking they have sway, and so he is told to become christian or die, and at the end, befuddled and broken, the Jewish Roman, this the first time one could not be both, cant give into the God that Romans thought for years was a Jewish conniving Jewish retelling of Mythrias as he was, as there whole bible was plagiarized from the myths of older Arabs. The Jewish circus owner wanted no part of it, but said it was a lovely piece, how Rome for the fisrt time backed a theocracy, bishops who emptied themselves from war and taxes as Jews always so, but worse this time, had won over Constantine, ender of Rome, and now without a city, the Arabs are so good about imperialism when not theirs, and now, the Christer maker ender of Rome finds himself like Mohamed in the pages of Dante's Comedy, the only divine book the Italans will ever have, and no Turks will ever demeaned he be unshorn in it, as an eagle cant have two heads, unless Polish. I wont touch that.











Along with the broke girls, which I have even gotten my brother to watch, as sharpie, as he hates most of that laugh track television city shit, as sees in Kat the reflected ethnic girl he sued to know and have around often, as they spake to a reality that Tina Fey likes to believe she has somehow tunneled her way up from. I also have taken to watching the terrific show, Better Call Saul, with the brilliant and funny and tragic, Bob Odenkirk, again the law of Machiavellian farce is always attest-able, which is about a low life and a criminal, as cable television finally finds the kind of criminal heart I can understand. A lawyer. After a decade of gumbas and meth dealers, now finally in a lawyer you have found the essence of the heart of crime.


I have seen and known these sort of shady men all my life and again, not to cast aspericans , but merely a kind of ennui, I did write a play about such a lawyer a dreg a scumbag a mustachioed hack, a barbershop barrister who eventually becomes enamored of and devoted to and kidnaps a Wendy like bombshell in the malebolgia of Los Angeles. How did I, I was asked on a phone interveiw from there, so perfectly get and understand the noir elements of La so perfectly, never having been there. Ah the madness of art. I have never been to Tuscany either, but had enough of a sense of the place through my veins and pulses that despite whatever is said at the temple of middlebrow, I was admired for by Italian who had enough of Jews and their in laws somehow white washing their age of darkness's. As tell the Bozos of amazon, save your devotionals and kind words for Scorsese, no he rally needs than now, as his less than Orson pin of genius is more Galen now, into the sewer he made and he cant fish it out. The Tuscan mother of a woman now gone, told her Roman named daughter to tell me she would pray fro me at her vespairs for my having saved the senescence of the Italians, corrupt and thus civilized and parasitic and venial before both sets of Barry's in laws ever were, from the Jewish money men needing a minstrel show as it has for forty years now that the Jews of Hollywood pertained they didn't look down on the shavatzas, wait, or is it, its zitsoons, no that's right , children of Ham, and she thanked me for giving the Patrica a glimmer of decency, and not that lathe overoptimism they give Niggers and Jews and other good noble savagery, as these stockist I collected were full of pimps, theive, saints, goddesses, witches, tyrants, etc, just something other than wop boxers and fat girls with hair removal problems so thrillingly coming to the tomuge of Jewish writer and bankers brother Satirists who have married blond.







On a free HBO weekend, watched the story of the great Nichols and May, a dreadful movie about the older English at some Hilton Calcutta, remember everyone, you dont have a society or a nation or the-ruins of empire or even human beings there until Judy Dench comes by like say the great Vanessa Redgrave, to the Trevi looking for Dick. Again, found Saul because will watch anything as put these cartoons together besides the circus as you demean it, ah but eventually even Pig man Frank Rich Readies that the Democrats and their good and wholesome and connected and on the pad and woeful cons,w ell, no onen is showing up, as Plautus could advise you, the only sin a political movmnet or a circus can commit. On here though saw Drumbo , again though think Bryan Cranston is an awfully decent man and a good actor, cant really watch this actor and take him seriously, as am always sure no matter what he doing, the great society, meth baking, being a member of the Hollywood ten, he is only doing it for the jokes.


So have taken to catching up with Breaking Bad, but it isn't Saul, as is as serous as a toothache, like Hillary is, learning nothing from her Sallust Saul like husband, and so, cant really get into itl but am lost anyway, but was nice to see wiseguy handler Jonathan Banks back on television as a perfect Rat. I am lost, but not in a way I cant stand, like Matrix lost, as these are human beings I notice here, even in Breaking Bad, I like Terrence get the human gist, but like Saul more, thats all. Its not like the Matrix which makes me sad and then as Raging as Lurr from Omicron Persei 8 becomes at Single Female Lawyer, which also left me cold. No I merely sit an and watch Saul play with a lightswtch because it is human and thus is not foreign to me, as Black Roman said, see what Constantine wrought above, as racism makes scense when you are two penect of the world and do not own it. I try and watch Matrix now as have said, and then I am filled with rage and anger that it makes no sense to me.


I am true to the Roman Gods as an inoculation from the gathering of Jews and blonds and white boys. Oh chubby lunchy Coasta what my father called a company Wop is patriotically everywhere on deck, without a Virgil on the crew. All are at wits end and shamelessly afraid of losing their hold on the niggers and the red necks they think bequeathed to them, as cant really watch Rachel anymore as she is made to be paper shuffler to lair liar pants on fire anchorman brought low Brian, showing again, sorry dears , but like I intoned, its a mans world bitch!, as all the pretty maids all in a row have not made it to the next prateoship as I think through the heavy rains I , well, argued. What I couldn't abide about Drumbo was its own seriousness again, Whatley seems to gravitate towards this despite or because of his every-mans gaiety and guyness, again he is a likable and fine actor, its just him slwering about Meth makes me rcall a comic book guys I spoke to in 2012, who said first of a new batman series that was about to have the massacre it seemed to be headed towards, dude, youre a vigilante in a cape. It shouldn't be this boring to be a criminal. The Jewey writer, Dalton, was a hack, but joylessly so, again Cranson a perfect player of the part, why I dont know, he seems to have a Dick van Dyke affability to his long jawed limberness, and what was not made a point of was Sparticus as much as I would have thought.






A doppelganger for Kirk Douglas was enlisted to come and show a strange devotion to Dalton,  as was latest commedia dell arte fat man Goodman that he would commit some sort of assault to always stand firm in Napoleon's army, though he seemed to be a precocious to Russ Meyer without the warmth. I know I was susposseta to feel sorry for the fade to genius, the Pirandello of the lot, instead, was shocked to see he was married to someone who could be approximated by the great and loved by me Diane Lane, Hanna's granddaughter, who to me is the essence of a cool brunette, if one is available in our hedda hopper as much as anything world. I felt badly more for her, and these children as much as anything, as his only true devotion as would be to a radical commie Jew with shiska wife and swimming pool, as was to glory and money, and even Loius CK seems human in comparison to him, which is saying something about how good an actor Cranston is, as despite himself, no wait thats not fair , or again to be fair, because of him, he showed a level of deceit which went all the way into the fibers of his Le Roy Neiman mustash, and handlebar as I have shown here always the essence of a con man.


The director was mentioned once, the great Stanley Kubrick, WHO WAS MAKING A FUSS, silly little Jew, about a throw away thing like historical accuracy, whereas as showing a lever level of Jewish arts, Drumbo was shaving corners like Bill Clinton in a whorehouse, and with as much a fake eye on the final bill.



But, with a small aside to Kubrick a filming master, Kirk admits to Drumbo that the director this time, on paths of gory unknown to hackish Dalton, was in fact right. The Romasn deserve batter than this sludge it was said that Jesuit trained Hitchcock said, before  the Romans were amazingly because of Mel Gibson made into Nazis by Jews for Jesus, and other trash the grand old party sees now going away. The sign now of being a establishment candidate is so toxic, so vile so venial so radio active that even house everything white woman translation horrid cunt bag woman Nicole Wallace calls the Barry interregnum that she helped to installation as being cancerous with smile of course, which was like a televised fart , as is there anything more true than that. A fart I mean, as it makes its own appearance in Dante, in a vile, horrible, furnace Inferno, as the great master thought again he like Tacitus and ME a lover of dancing girls ethics, Dante could think of no more poetic an image than that hell is filled with demons who fart at will.


I did watch Drumbo it until one am, my mother in her bed down here, asking me why the light was still on. Though not porno, and I couldn't explain it, and told her I was watching that zaftig brunette she thinks has to be Italian, Kat Dannings, and the blond she cant abide, queta ragazza con le capilli silka she said, with a shudder, she cant stand her, and makes a face of constant at wits endlessness as she cant abide the bionda, but thinks the curvy Jewish chick reminds her of the Venuses she saw in an Italy which has been made into a place of where bigots can as my father warned me say openly what they think of everyone one else. Unlike American yentas, she thinks Jews can be very pretty, but the pout like the waitress' must be of the girls with the gaits of goddesses, as Italian girls were once described before Martin Scorsese took his first meeting.


Barry the white did a grave misdeed no pun intended, when he didn't go to the funeral of the first Italian supreme court justice, which was ironic for a nation of niggers controlled by patricians and in a tenement archipelago predicted by the Romans as much as the alphabet, music or art. Its was the discovery of a book by Boccaccio no less of Lucretius that opened the box of ancient knowledge called the Renaissance, a book which when a lovely and thoughtful Jewish man named Grannblatt I think admitted it was the start of the age of enlightenment,a s never before , this was seen as heinous by people who still sigh to blame the Nazis on Tacitus, again not my favorite Roman at all, but Roman enough to be hated by the dimwits and nimrods who listen to a wrangling Glenn Beck. When dutiful thin lipped Barry didn't give this giant his due, how could he inculcated as he was by a grandma who wished to see him as best trainspotter for the niggers, how could he give his wilting wax imprimatur, such as it is, place Bills Roman joke here, how could he stay quiet for three hours and go to that mans funeral and show a modicum of respect, which he saves for pimps thankfully not shot as slashing tires in Chicagoans, as those deaths we know since the golden age pages are those for whom no bell around Barry's neck ever tolls.


Oh he comes out now with the wide skittish eyes of a bag hag on television who cant believable the people are accepting Trump after she was diva like insulted by him, oh go wax your cunt sweetheart, its how you got the job, see above who avaricious Irishmen who have breached the walls are not pleased by her constant connecting of everything see sees to something from Gelbart years of shticky MASH. Saw both Mash and Patton and other great seventieth films were on, but like Cooley high seen again, couldn't watch it all as was pained by more than an ahcita stomach, but by a sadness I cant put my finger on, as Goofball Jerry Lewis who I love said at the academy awards one year of the anti Mayrelin herself, zaftig Sophia.



 

I wasnt the only one out here in the serfdom to note that ultimate dismissal after years of hearing how important respect was to the gumas that Martin and Francis and pre shot wops prattled on so about, and not my mother only ether, as cashiers and waitresses called now Crass by Jew Yorker hacks who think they have tunneled up like Milton's Satan to the wasp paper hives, this was an analogy that pleased a white woman I worked with on ITGAGE, and think they have left the Kats in alleys far beneath them. Man of Steal was on, no thank you as said, Ursa being still a brunette and Lois not,was too much for me and my love of Teri and Phyllis as vavoomy should padded flesher like cartoons come too fleshy life. Again how closeted does one have too be to see the girl who played Ursa and not say, fuck you you living ass, we have found our Lois, but then, the queer who played superduperman wouldn't have been the most effeminate one on the screen, ...oh look they're kissing amid the strangely nine eleven rubble of metropolis. Ah I could be a bitch and say despite the work Or Alan, no man could be that powerful and still hold together as a man, but then I am a Jesuit student who can not take comics and politics at anything deeper than face value, as circus is meant to be, before like so much Italian all was devastated and demeaned and stressed by duck walking Federico who now , any schnook, has been made as much as anyone a persona non gratata as their hatred of circus, as puritans always are, make him verboten as the abortionist and theirs carved woman lecture us about our carnivals, again like Barry making grandparents with Klan ties proud.


But what showed me what a nigger we have on this last horse he road in on in Barry was how they put it out that he was about to nominate a republican to take the Scalias seat, as if they killed Scalia, whoever did it, twas a grievous fault and grievously did Bushie answer it, as within five days of this game changer as a Jewish hack would call it, Bush was out of the race officially, four delicagets in a discontented winter does not a holy ghost smoking a five dollar cigar make. And too, within days, Hillary was barking like dog at the moon showing she might not be ready for anything more than the hypodermic which Bill is preoboby keeping handy. Ah Roman me, Id make that a perpetual loop of a commercial, my opponent barking at the moon, call it Monica's revenge, ah but Bogeyman Curb your enthusasium, and who saw that connection before Horace at 8-h, I start to dispsie, his love of the republic is never fulsome enough to cause him to trash Mrs Tweedledum, as his own jewey adoration and husband silence at a white woman is irreproachable. Again, fellow, I was made to read life of Napoleon as a boy, so either take Vienna, as he paraphrased Caesar, or leave me a alone.




An Idea that this house nigger bag man would replace a giant on the court of course not with a liberal, lets not go nuts, no one pays him to be a liberal, dummies, but with a hack, a piccalilli hack, a gop guvnor of all things oh of course Rachel , its still good, its still Good, she came out to explain its alight, hes pro chose, as being pro abortion is too something wicked this way comes to play in Peoria as it were. I still get likes for Romansplaining, how different since I was called a republican for noticing that President Huggybear presided over nine dimes out of a dollar going to the super rich, as a nigger must to to get his white tie and tails. And that this chophouse coon bag man would be this Hansel was amusing, she should have just taken tame to run out the clock, Massiminio style as he was hoping too get away without having to pretend anymore, something I pciked up on when shamelessness Bidding came out with eclectically white Barry father Ash somehow to explain how this republican again w one of the good ones, a style of team building slated by Bill Clinton lest any democrat get to close to the by now corrected farm implement levers of power. Youll pay for this, Barry, to dain to replace the Reader of Justinian for fun, to replace Scalia, with a Bob Hopeless lookalike, a political bag man from the far west, always a moderate, menacing there are whole scads of races he'd abort if he could, and of course, this is Sparta and so he loves War. I say put him on the bench, hacks, there is no better coda to the Madam Butterfly who is persnickety than to give the Republic a young man on the bench like Bush installed blue eyed cj WHO DO THE best that Merck and businesses can pay for. I made another sign to ward away the evil eye, I have been skitsky lately, and didn't watch this house coon nervously look to at a Preatorium about to kick him out, the Romans you hate and grandma hated as a good jayhawk boobie trapped this farce from the beginning, tough guy, and even crass eyed Hillary can see it, not as jesuitical as I and Bill, really though called a tempestuous Italian can be paternally agronomist as I have been taught, it made me sick to know this Trojan horse rolls on unabated into the long good night, as I hope for him Tyberian evenings, sideswiped and despised as Rome has survived his gloomy kleptomaniac honorifics.





ACT III.

I can sense something in the air now, gorgeous Roman deities, who look like Wendy flitting through the air, as they could, called manias once, like Phantoma by a giant I adore named Fletcher Hanks, they could at any moment go from gorgeous Kat like bouncy tangled harrier, as my mas says of her who see watched her, like my brother and sees a reflection of their race as never seen in Pollock and Russian domianetd Sopranos, these manias , Freud like Marx a Roman buff, aren't we all, at least Jews were then, they could become harpies and she devils at a blink of an eye something that as placed into Raiders of the lost ark by a Roman addled Lucas. Actually this idea of mania going from gorgeous creature to stragea witch is anti biblical, but Steven didn't care, as with some much Roman to the news once, it is super cool. On the free hbo weekend I saw a show called Vinyl, about the 'decadent' seventies, which made me wonder again, like the Romans when do you Jews and white in laws become decedent, just by placings the suburban face on, well, sorry Medved and other intermarried chosen that means shit, and is seen in Dante again, when all the fakes wear ivory masks to hide their hypocritical hearts. I sat and watched a moment and then saw the disastrous wop himself Romano, the again Wop Steppin with always fetch for food, and went to turn it off as figured it another wop comedy at which if I didn't want to watch Mash...Then I heard this was Scorsese's last hurrah, a return to the drain pipes and the gumans as he always must when getting too far a failed into a real world unlike the anti Disney land he has created. Once in a play I wrote called Glissando, I had a Martin Scorsese Character in electric blue sixties suit, as the Count Basie orchestra behind him played as he sang with showgirls around him I love Paris in the springtime, this before he sold out in a film called Hugo about the supposed French invention of film, which like their plates of slop may have more Venetian and Milanese and even Neapolitan roots than his masters would like, and who in America is allowed Neapolitan roots. At the end of this Minnelli like watercolor scene, he is suddenly transported back to the jersey hinterlands he helped to make a set for minstrel shows. Not a lot this year about black hisartey month, it is after all a year of Columbus days, and so saw a show on PBS to hagiography and antisepsis the black panthers, but then I am such a bitch were I a black panther the last thing ,as I do with the Beloved Romans, the least thing Id want is hagiography from PBS, were all is made middlebrow and acceptably to the white chicks. Two shows about the Romans and the Egyptians, decent and Ovid filled, these usually the Villans of the sprig as Jews make common cause with barbarians for the sake of their mannish wives, programs with voices of men like Martin Sheen and Sir Ben were Sumeria torn off their air after I suppose anger not so much from Jews but from the white trash in laws who have made them all name their ruddy haired day walking child's Brigid and Christophers.









I mention that as going through the channels saw a sanitized for your approval show about the cosmetician master, supposedly, August Wilson, and here, only the great actor Charles Dutton said what he and I think of the bloated intermarrying, frankly I like the sistahs and the soldjas now, like automatic sentencing, well, anything for Billy, and all is forgiven and  forgotten by niggers collected in bushels like bad apples or is it watermelon on the turnpike by a wayward vulgar Hill. Here is Wilson, who I never bought. Dutton a grand growling, powerful, man, said of Saint Augustine, how does one turn their backs on the black director, who stuck his neck for him, who plaudited him the the jitneys and the dreadful fried egg sangwiches and the grays of dower Pittsburgh, as I have made it appearance I still feel devotion to those wops and Jews  who gave me accolades but you know, couldn't be caught dead this close to a Roman walls as I damned, and to be fair, I made things tougher than not anyway. Thank God Kat and Beth were on, they flit in and out through the night,  and bye bye Augustus who I saw never had a play as good again without Charles or without the director who found him, the velvet slums,  as he as all hacks do, just kept writing the same play over and over again, and not like me, who enjoys it that way. I saw this controposto to the Vinyl show, again Martin Sore-easy making his ethic to a  white America to believe his con, and I knew the Jesuits in heaven adored me for still being that prick of a boy who never gives ,  no  matter what you think, who ever gives in, and who when need be will hurl blood at the wall to gain attenuation, Martial attention and not have Yahweh think Im part of anything so anti Roman as a hiding place. Ah, but I have seen this Vinyl isn't another of Scorsese triomfi, no, things are different now that one of his criminal Puppet shows alas was about Jews, and how they vulnerably in newest Amsterdam weren't that different from the Columbo and other Crime families at all, and the only thing close to blood for them was red ink on the books. Now, having broken the magic seal, Scorsese isn't a genius any more, as that sort of intimidation of admiration  is like a cheap suit, as Ma tells me as a tailor , and so at any moment a cheap sharkskin suit can come apart if the right thread is pulled at , as he did, and now, no less than wops on the radio say of his latest Roman farce, enough already! Ah the most Jewish of incantations , we have had enough, and no less than Richard Hel and new York Doll himself Buster Poindexter say this fucking wop dont know what he is talking about, and openly trash him, and I wonder if good white girls and sissy's I have to dal with unasked for from his poor mans zeotrope, yeeeooooow! , will bother them as they openly bothered  me , and I have an inkling no one gave him the dignity of comparing him to Brutus as Empire magazine told me with a no thank you for Life of Brutus, you got him and what he does a millimeter from the mark.

And best moment of the Roman month of the dead , it wanst named or made for slaves and pimps, was when broken and dated Chris Christie, who did the bidding of the party to save gagging chicken bone eating and sacristan playing nigger Barry at the flood, shoved it all up their as as Dante would say, by coming out when they tried as the hidden men of power behind a puppet, oh its all very Italianate in ways you'd hate to admit, to metastasize on side of Robot Rubio, distressing word, at least in unvinnigared Italian, look it up, and sided with bulldozer Trump. That was a fuck you and a middle finger to the establish men whose Whig party is coming apart. I never liked Christie,  ask Rachel, as I called him 'the poor soul' eons ago, and didn't like him inserting himself to  save Barry, never save Caesar from drowning, dum dum. But he did and got a snoot full of daily admonishment, which might have hurt him lower had anyone still been watching that silly dirty handed dirty money war channel, a  channel that lectures all as racist, through the uncounted drone attacks. Evil is a tiring quality I was taught, and though I didn't like Christie and his prepeual saying he was a  Sicilian and not Italian, even I, Roman tony don't get how that isn't a pejorative, even I don't get it, still, he kept saying it so it must mean something to the half breeds who dance dance on GE strings. He kept saying it, cie la vie, I dont get it, but alike Scorsese this wop didn't understand the strings that come attached, as somehow Irish dirt bags and lesbians with putty knife added lip gloss could hector an Italian guvner over and over over a bridge , where nothing happened, as like with Gronk and floating orgy's unlike love boats with vikings, its cute hen someone we like does it, as Bill Clinton was the queen of the political payback, which is why Im not sure those FBI files so flippantly sued are still up to date enough to be as useful as many men with purple sashes on his side despite themselves as he thinks, ah the tendon snaps  and Akillis falls to the ground.

Id like to know why this bridge was such a big deal to lesbians in blazers and pub crawling Catholic precinct Irish hags,  as compared to a nigger and a yenat hag who presided over the death of five men in their wastebasket ruins of Lybia, and he was made to be some evil thing while ambassadors and seals, ah the last heroes you  have,  as porch monkeys abound, Put Tacitus line here, they were burned to death, as so many were in wars unoccupied while Georgetown hags were screeching about the pill, as if, as if any of you had fag and fish housewives  sex for fun, all is done like blond wish it to be, with the lights off and eyes closed as Maureen Dowd and the ayatollah would find accountable to some Thor god Jews have green-lit amazingly again. Yes Iran means Aryan, so despite the devotion to a Koran, they still seemingly burn incense to the ghost of Cyrus, and Spartan comic book movies make then rage. Christie gave a thunderbolt in the italic way, as after all he forwent the Sicilian credo of HBO for a more classical and Fosse Italian flavor, its called vendetta, its called revenge and every Italian worth his salt, look that up, must take at least take his money shot of it, as now the queers and sissy's and Joe Flynns of Buzz cut buzz feed cheer nation Cornelius grandchildren what becomes a faggot most are literally as scared eyed as was Barry when he dared try to repealed a Roman minded jurist with some bag man hack and I said, again before all that Antonines unnoticed or forgotten wild get their Earnest Revenge of the hacks of power as this con has come to its life cycle end and Vespasian who I mentioned as the patriot saint of hatred of hacks and niggers warehousing Irish con men and on the pad, that eventually, a palacade of purged neronian hacks would dot the sky, and he would destroy you all, as the people have grown tired of your circus, or hatred of them, as Greek Tragedy always  got on a Roman senators last nerve. Never forgive, never forget. Never exapalin, never complain. Never give in. Thats Disreali. My blood approves.









01 March 2016

THE ROLL OF VENUS.




1. Since last year and a bit before that was Wally Wood and Jack Davis year, this year started by scouring a website called comic book plus, and joined up or re-found an old password to see as many old comics as I could, motley mad like comics from that golden age of American empire called the fifties, when as opposed to now, satire seemed everywhere. Despite what is said of The Eisenhower years, usually by Jews with no scents of irony, still, there was Nichols and May, Chuck Jones, Mad comics, Bob Newhart, Caesars Hour, and much else that we don't see now as are told who to vote fr by white girls and Negros always absolving their masters of being fun of.


Now, of course it is no where, as saw my man Roman Bill seemed to seethe why were old fossil hags , a coven of witches like one time Bunny with portfolio Gloria Steinem, and fat back hag cow fallen Jew Albright, brought into a dying campaign to start damning people to hell like wayward popes and Becket without the warmth. Ah, Bill, this is why I admire you, even though he takes it open himself to trash his wives campaign and blow up like Vesuvius at the same time in the SC primary, bringing up consternation causing race music each time, bringing up race in ways that makes Human erection incarnate Anderson Cooper shake his erasers head, still, the human Napoleon, the pastry not the general, in him couldn't believe those effeminates and lesbos in that witches brew of a campaign were stupid enough to bring ancient relics like them anywhere that close to a rope line. You're better off bringing your busty girlfriends, as that evokes life and joy and not the jealousy of man killers, but then like him I read my share of Plautus, I just didn't think it was an owners manual to life and power. Of course I could have done worse as I could have used used Milton, like the Bush crime familia. The italics there is what would really bother them. That family has brought enough death, megadeath is their business, even without spreadsheet imperitive to causing an American city to become a swamp seemingly just because they are either lasisay fare incompetents or juts as so many chicken hawks and lesbians do adore death here in the land of the jogging dead. They have killed enough I think, as he, Bush the youngest, sluds to four precent approval, as his last bund rally for a fiasco war was too much and even Fox news brought out pig man Karl Rove much too much for anyone whose Machiavellian bonifides were dearly tattered as being called the brain of the Bush baby who we all saw as Ray Boulger anyway. 

To be honest Boiney and his minions rats begin to bother me so, as when I exasperated about how bloody handed house nigger Trojan Mare Barry was giving 90 cents out of every dollar to the top of the top one percent, I was pilloried for it by fat ankeld hags on Rachel's page, and by effeminates who have now become Budapest on dark night. Frankly, them having left me alone since Halloween as cant tell if this is the usual fatiguing quality of evil or if the plunge in the Dow since New years is a end to a criminal enterprise, and thus to be Roman again, the wiping out of the rich has left their radials enemies without jobs, and thus mute. Am I the last schoolboy made to read Cicero or at least Cicero in the hagiography which went off the tracks in Sallust, who showed what he and his gumba Jew ilk was in Catiline's war, again, he detested by the fat ankles cows and aunts and the conterminous now again, like at ESPN, up to their tuchuses in the paper and the bills and the markers which besot the bribe takers here just as in Roma and worse Messina in dank but never quite dark ages.

I say this as heard from someone that my use of Plutarch famous definition of the middle ages as 'dark' was seen as suddenly Racist, but then its amazing what is decried as racist here in Barbies imperia dream space, the Love Island of emotional toxic spills, as decrying the middle ages as dark as a pejorative against our beloved Vikings, that took longer than I thought. But, then as I SAID WHEN ASKED TO PLACE MY ETRUSCAN EPIC on Mars, as it was more believable to those gonniffs and cunts that there be civilization and sadly so corruption on a dry dead planet before Italy, well, as I SAY THERE, I am not the one to make hagiography of niggers women and capitally Vikings, dear. Im just pleased to know that that fifty point lead Hillary had among the Rachel crowd on Halloween was as full of cool whip bullshit and particle board as I was the only one who said it was. Again, to show how boring and anti Roman this has all become. 


 

2. In reading these old comics which seemed like comics and not the pretense of English schoolboys who will never have the grace and funny quality of Alan Moore, yes I said funny as when read Watchmen, enjoyed it and was not shocked when Alan compared it to Wally Woods Superduperman at all, while you hacks all thought he was super serial. I read all the pardoy book from Alas and Charleston I could find, and love their thick four color vulgarity and read books starring Jackie Gleason, as I guess a better Fred Flintstone than those creeps at Hanna Barbara would ever do, and thought of that few years ago was give the opportunity to do these old comics redone now, and passed on it thinking I had ethics, silly of me, and didn't want to trash these poor dead men ideas to again pretend I was Alan More as love satire even more than he, and thus cant ever not give the game away.

Looking back I should have done it, as the public domain is a Roman invention, interestingly enough vulgarized and vandalized by a wop named Bono who put into law the die that somehow copyright, which meant noting to Disney when dealing with Collodi, now was as scarosanct in ways it never was meant to be for his stinking smiling rat. That made me sad, looking back, was that I think I could have done something with grace to and for these people whose work was demeaned and besmirched anyway by a comic company that went ahead and thought itself the her to Fletcher Hanks as fucking if. I might have one this well, as what it was I was ding anyway, a satire of comics, and in a way that our valued customers could only like Jews see as hidden insult as I was expected to take the sopranos and Scorsese in the sprites in which it was intended, as if I was paid, as they were. I too reading these old pages felt badly that it seems self appointed Juvenals of the gutters , alley versions of Jewish comedians and political satirists and Samantha Bees , I saw that Citizen Gains, as was smeared in the Lampoon, took a real love of putting people like those who made Whack and get lost, out of work. 

 

And these weren't nobodies, but in fact men named Orlando and Epsosito and Andru and Kubert and Mauer, and yet he enjoyed acting like he held the marker for satire, some how he had convened it, well, at least after Kurtzman signed over the deed as in a Dudly Doo Right short. And, I felt awful that I had wasted so much time thinking about the art form comics, that my father and the priests thought so beneath me all that time ago, in which I thought there was supoosed to be vulgar joy, the kind the cause white women and their Jewish nebbish henpecked husbands to demand the flaming become the betrothed. As that even the self appointed cretin satirist at Mud as I recanted it in Rag, seemed to enjoy boarding up places when he already had Jack and Wally and soon enough Don and Mort, and he thought so puny was his penetration that each dime of satirical minded goys had to go to him for further instructions, That is, until he made a magazine and played with the big boys of the house of Luce and such, and came into view of a buzz saw named Stan Lee whose open dismissals of a subpoena not being worth the papyrus it was written on, suddenness there was always a Capetian Marvelous who had all the better lawyers than everyone else did thanks to Unkie Marty. Still, feel badly I DIDN'T do as i should have and taken caricatures I planned out an looked up then, Hector Protector as the dick Tracy wannabe, remained Nose Darcy jut as a placeholder, the Flying Super space man, Amazonia, the brunette one piece heroine, the predating Diana of a comic company like so many higher level in the ghetto paper bag jews put out of business, as you'd come to deserve the crusader psychiatrist, and The Gladiator, a batman in Roman dress as opposed to Greek. I could have done something lovely and sweet in a ghetto at that time and maybe worse now, was running out of black and red ink, and all looked like tarot cards but not in a Promythia way. This would all come to inform Rag, then a few pages of a comic satire of sixties comics, with a Gore Vidal at the head, then only a few pages of gel ink kept in a manila enevolpe, pages in pencil, with a few showing the Franzetta hillbilly made a zaftig heroine wonder gal , to be played by Kat Dannings eventually, willing to beat up her way through the venial comics of a dire sap opera like last gasp of comics.

Of course, though I was slammed by some hack there, who in my mind and not truth looked like Ming on the comic book men, for daring to think that somehow there were ethics in comics and that these men deserved to not be grave robbed, thus showing that JJ Abrams Tank like pushiness towards riches was beyond me, I felt decent about myself that I had left these men's creations alone. As i said, the Germans only stopped detsroying art when they could sell it. I also noted that many of those masters in the hands of Jews another pity party we must have for the German Jews dared to be treated by the , taken by gestapo, Mettrenichian class as the Italians had been started before and concurrent with, but who cares, that many of those masters in the hands of Jews were in fact bought on pennies on the dollar from German gentry when the German economy as ravaged, as even Raphael's were bought by meddlesome Mellons and Rothschilds and even the local deacon of the mob church I attended as a boy, which was the root of my disconsolate, that these masterworks were bought from a decaying Irsherwoodian Germany for 1000 dollars. Roman antiquities looted from German famaileis by new York Jews still sat in the church I was an alter boy in a Christ made by southern Italian giant sculptor pound for pound Bernini equal, unheard of to white girls, a sculptura corpus lies, as Tomb Raider Jesus in a chapel which may or may not have been stripped and sold for parts by a catholic hutch run by Irish and German nuns who decide the best part of Lutheranism was the mark up. No fan of Germans God knows, but to be fair if its true that Germans didn't stop smashing art till they could sell it, Jews didn't forgo the proscription against Roman art in the bible until st Paul told them they could own it. Now there, unlike Godesll was somehow who knew the value of a well placed Roman helmet, so dont fuck with me Glendas.

3. I bought a few Candy hearts at the dollar store to have and give out. Not being a lesbian, I do not begrudge anyone anything especially Valentine's day as I said, a grasping Paul's way of making all that was Roman certain and acceptably to the populate in ways Mohammad didn't have to do, and they do not bother to do now, which is why they are hated. I gave one to Lori, who had seen me in an idling car at the supermarket, and came by to say hello. She who I accidentally met and handed it to her, making her feel quite more touched, than I would have guessed, but saw here in the parking-lot when wasn't feeling my best,and I liked the idea of giving a busty co eddy chick a candy heart, as it brought out the Deputy Fife in his Italianate suit I have in me. 



 

She took the small heart with a stunned smile, I can be quite aloof when not volcanic, and looked at it for a few moments. We are not boyfriend and girlfriend, have I ever...?, but we are Bros I guess in that awful way on 2 broke girls with Max and the Jewfro from guy which I wasn't the only one to wince at, so please don't call me racist Hillary, it was just he unlike the Brad Pitt looking cad summed beneath her Venus attributes, and it all left me cold, as it did the writers who soon knew that this wiseguy like arch like the Klan one between Sonny Steelgrave and the super brilliant Mel Profit wasnt clicking. She took the heart I had given her quite carelessly, uselessly like to build up to such moments and really schmaltz them well but am at my best when A ROMAN STOIC AND JUST go by instinct, like a Caesar on the battlefield, as he famously said, stratagem is for cowards and women looking for husbands. Her eyes teared up and I became a bit shocked at this. I...I she stammered, I didn't get you anything, Tone, I didn't know i'd ever see you again...i just saw you sitting here, and came over...she said, having picked up artlessly what my brother calls me, I guess helping me see her as a buddy, despite her Kat like appropriations. I just thought, I said, Id tell you happy Valentines day. I hadn't thought of her exactly when threw the small red blood hearts into mt green basket at the dollar store, but again, all is ad lib as Machiavelli said, especially when written down, as again a comedy writer from Luca pretty much would never be forgiven for telling us the men who wished to rule like Caesar got worse grades than he dd and that c students and not Rhodes scholars would attempt to be the Prince, then and now,

You mean Lupacalia, she said wrongly but sweetly, and not being a lesbian didnt correct her, as she said showing I am catching, See...see nigger, she said, I read your stuff. She is quite white compared to olive me, almost pink. She took the heart, a small Vandel Savage or some two named thing and held it to her white sweater dress, unzipped just enough for me to see the bounty mutiny half out of a Victoria secret knock off bra, white with small flowers. You're a sweetheart Tony, she said, eyed misto as Ma would say. Why didn't I jump at this girl I thought, she is everything I love, just slightly lighter and thinner, why didn't I jump at this Pigeon sister before me...? Why was I ALWAYS YEARNING, DO I YEARN...?, for some kinky haired chick out of my directly slight line anyway...? Ill get you something, I swear it, she said, then added, You know, if I see you again, if you don't hide in that hole of yours like a a ferret. Or wait, she said, What is it a ...not mole, wait...a hedgehog, tahts it. I played insulated. Are you mailing a slur, dear about my Italian heritage. She smiled and wiped her eye in the cold, unromantic, rain. No, she said. I love Italians, especially the ones closest to Africa like you. She said, Oh my Nan is from Amelia Romagna, [sort of Tuscany] where the Centurions got their wimmin. She winked, wholly vulgarly. Sure Id love to fuck this creature, I thought, but was still besotted with Nefertiti as haven't gone back to Dwayne Reed since, but thankfully have net seen hide not hair of that ninny, who I heard from my brother might have been shot, thank God, when shots rang out near by on news years eve. These aren't the old days I recall, the innocence of Sugar Hills replaced by gangs who don't have to shoot straight, who spray bullets as happened near here, these good fer nuthing niggers too Tarantino to be marksmen or at least a bit more circumspect in their ballistics, showing the truth of Tacitus, and that we have more porch monkeys than centurions we need. When the soldiers became faceless back Muzak for a nigger queen who couldn't even shut a prison as Jewish hags hectored against it, well I wasn't going to cry for second story men, as there was a fatalism to the gumbas and their dark hands that you niggers cant do well, like how the Jews have reduced a senate to a marble toilet. 

 

You don't have to get me anything, I said, As you just leaning in this window is present enough. She laughed, she liked the attention, amazingly here in Pollock queer land gals like she areant boyfriend-ed much. I said, Why you Jewish rats shouldn't even celebrate Valentine days, it is unseemly of you. Well, she said, with a narrowing of eyes with a smirk I have noticed only from Jewish girls, showing a playfulness fox news and herstory professors think they will beat out , she sneered, of the rabble, good luck Augustus would tell you, How do I not know this heart isn't hot. Oh please dear, only a Jew would resale a two dollar heart. Oh you creep,... she said smiling despite fearless, as have had this ability since got the great Bev Smith to laugh on wtea despite herself. The lovely woman stood there at the car, hanging out and over as she stood at the window and I was both grateful and attracted. Come 'ere she said, and hugged me through the window on the drivers aide and gave me a kiss on the lower face, but not the mouth as was too contorted, but recanted I hadn't kissed a woman in an awful long time, and still pined for Victoria, now far away, aren't they always. Happy thanksgiving, Anthony, this true without adornment, she said, then caught herself and said, I mean VALENTINES DAY, that's cause every day in this hell hole seems like autumn. Real quick I said as was waiting my brother who angrily ran into the Golden Dawn to buy my mother only Italian tuna fish in oil as she is convinced that lessay faire Obama is killing people by letting a level of oligarchic glee, which will soon enough cause men to wear chicken inspector badges again. Why did you cut your hair, Lory...? I had to ask. Oh, she said with a girlish lilt, though she is in her late thirties, I don't know. An old woman bellowed. Oh Christ thats my mum, I gotta go. She acceded a finger nagging in the air, and said, Buddy, keep up and get out some huh...she smiled and walked away. As sometimes do, watched her ass walk the way in.

THIS WAS ONE OF THE few Valentines days when I wanst completely isolated, as again must say I don't begrudge couples having their day in the Roman way, something unknown or deliberate unseen by cheap fuks and sissy's who think Hallmark invited this whole act, which I find it interesting that hallmark would be so demeaned for selling Kitch and such in a land of GE and Halliburton, but then we are all so serious aren't we,when niggers on the pad and told to novitiate for food. I say , hearing some wop vestige on Chicago radio do some anti Valentine day shtick that fat girls and closet everything participate in, I say leave Turan and Opps, the Venus and cupid of Italay alone, they are too italic for you barbarians, like a corrupt senate or art, or literature or the very dramatis persona of Shakespeare you don't get it, and have to demean and devastate everything like the sister Gertrudes you all are. I say leave Valentine like so much had nothing to do with Christer bullshit, as he may have had something to do with an edict when Augustus placed down that the gentry must have not married into families that didn't have papers, in empires yet unborn that would be a scurrilous joke made a slur, as in WOP, though the white trash liked the more niggardly stand in Guinea, as it served their purpose for the grrr sound like K that they find an inherent part of a bar bar tongue. I say pray to Aryan, yes its all connected, the god of Barry's in laws, prey to him and leave poor Venus alone, alone, boys of the band go back, as another late night wop of sports imbibing, humming they seem to have saved the wops for the overnights, go back to watching in space squat and sweat, how about that, and leave the lover cards unruffled and alone. Its like how GG Marquez is nothing but Italo Calvino billed to much and put in a taco shell. Leave the Italian lovers alone, let the streetwise vestal and generals taken out of Ancient Romance for spec, but what the hell, might send it out there anyway, let them lie in Vulcan dust, enraged, entangled, forever. To the Jewish duchy where Islamic weddings are targeted and somehow not Isis HQ, hummmm, that would be suspicious if I didn't know that Barry has been renouncing and leaving his black relations to starve since he was calculating studying ethics and self promotion from Cardinal Dershivitz at Harvard. Turan also was a barley fielded version of a Valkyrie whose handmaidens brought the Sabine warriors to Parnassus too, leave her and all be, and maybe just once have a similar attitude towards the six or seven death holidays and War commendation days you all dutifully keep and hold.

Leave the day of love alone and go after some of those various patriotic military holidays, in which we get uneven war movies on cable stations, go take on of THOSE WAR PARADES down, and don't snarl at me, I read and kept and held to Aeneas carrying Anchisese the father god war image down a bloody hill while you were all getting high. As it made me smile to see after wayward bumbler Bush had a rar rar pep rally filed with generals and majors and buntings and flags clarinetists and the tubas of midnight war, again as with Bill, don't fuck with Roman Antonine girls. That he dared cheer on a war, a war that lasted longer than Troy, taking down half a million Arabs, though told I hate Semites am one of the few to notice the bombed hospitals, and 5000 American troops most under Barry's bloated Caesariate, that this joyous racks celebration of war caused Trumpies numbers to balloon upwards, as there are enough mothers with tripartite Saliari hat somber flags to take the chicken hawks seriously any more. I then presented my mother with a small cardboard heart as I did Lory. My mother was touched and then matter of factly tossed it in a bag. It is Lent, she said, And candy and meat are for Satanists and wicked witches and Calvinists. She wont take a bite of candy or meat or vinegar, or wine, as ash Wednesday fell when it did, with Bush the creep showing tenaciously a mark of soot his father once called pagan. Happy Valentines day. Columbus year continues. 




 NEXT. BRUTUS' THIRD ACT.