THE VIRGIN’S RAPE.

2 FEBRUARY 20

It is like what my pop told me, although he was a stoic at most things, his praise for me was quiet, but unqualified. When I asked him, why he was placing cartoons I had done on the wall of the old house where he played pinochle with his Jewish and wop and Negro buddies he told my mother that I as an Italian and a smart one would have enough people upset at me just on general principal. Now as I notice what the entire woman in the Weinstein trial look like I realize my parents was right about everything. You’ll know what I mean when Gummadi Rotund and the shysters come in a second car.

I couldn’t watch the Venetian like sentencing  hearing for actually pretty lesbian morality tale Ezra, as must say that one of the essays I got published this year and was allowed to concurrently place on a writing site–I look only for that an no fees now–was You are watching Curia Television about her. As with dear Harvey comics, I wonder since we are always being casted, I wonder if , like with him, she looked like one of the daughters of the Prairiea   and one of you little Suzy cream cheese and if Ez-Monic, the name fits in the crumbling duchy, dear, you should have went with it, I wonder if she isn’t being persecuted by a cheese head windswept wasteland Lake Woebegone , for not having had the American decency to be a pervert who is given a license like a dog. I was beloved by the brethren as could make the art of shyster hood, they even told me, seem romantic and classical, as they loved me equating the digest of Roman law with Paladin as I am sure, even though she makes her filthy lucre from it, some part of Gumma Donna must by now be shuddering at this many Beatrice’s trapped in the bathroom. She can’t be so money grubbing –its what separates the wops from the Jews, –a love of money isn’t as evil as the adoration of it. She can’t be immune to the kick line of brunettes that Harvey didn’t just rape like a common alleyway rapist, but emended and defamed them at a point they thought, stupidly, this Hebe wasn’t just a blond shaping ham who was perpetually unable to be taken out of Levittown, no matter how many blonds he had on the payroll. Let some dark Jerry pin down some cheerleader in a old dodge, and then find images of Caravaggio and sonnets to murder in hicks room, it wouldn’t have even gone to court.  

I feel bad thinking that a possible rape victim is being drug through the city, dressed as a Minerva if that, by the milk fed farmers in another witch trial the Romans and Italians never much bothered with having. Thank God, That Girl was on early today, as they have at Curia Television been devoted to trashing women as no one has since the last Clinton interregnum. It all proves a mother who knew deep down she was going called me over and begged me not to be come ,l even this late, part of the cesspool of America  in anyway, they cant wait to trash you here, as I’ve been warned all my life, and wonder if Cyrus the Vance didn’t just sue brunettes, thinking that the Clinton’s, Roethlisburger, they still on KDKA man caves call him a hall of fame, as if Godel wants any part of that rapist shit, and Tiger tigers burning down, that they don’t get here they remain today by making sure that only pizza waitresses and such, them kind of women, are the victims of their shitty advances. Did Cyrus the Great assure the Shylocks in laws of Venice that only brunettes be pleaded OUT as witches, always be casting, as he, hairy Harve, Frankenweenie, didn’t exactly cast Italian women in any other those crappy movies that the great Gene Siskle called warmed over Master piece theater, you know, where I Claudius is a Rome where everyone had blue eyes, cause that’s what it as like then at the West end.

The unwashed shysters of the house, the help since Romans Senate days, that corridor between deputies and Kings is a Styx, they don’t like rabble rousers coming into the hall of Augustus’s, are playing for history now. You know, the same way they declare war now, perpetually. That’s because the mezzanine is empty, again nothing in politics, like Machiavelli said, that I didn’t see better in Plautus. Next time you plan a coup, try to get the local CBS affiliate to not dump and go back to Dr. Phil, already in progress. Ah poor Hillary, shell never gets out of her perpetual wedding night. Again, another line I got from Roman farce. And the best part about the chaos in Iowa is how, like the NFL, how it doesn’t smell of being crooked. So, I read my incomplete Roman calendar as set down by Ovid in exile, more of a last letter of Vanzetti than any heinous letter from any Birmingham jail, but then, as cravenly as last week’s circus, I have to remover to Gödel the mixed race qb is never Jimmie G., but always the creep with mom’s blue eyes. At last may have printed Requiem for Ma, I am asked, emailed, for a picture and a bio, a hard thing to do in a land as decent and honorable as this one, as somehow they like their wops as dead vulcanized rubber corpse-men , i.e. cheating.

In Ovid, I read, it is very subversive, that this a later translation the Greeks have been eschewed for the Syrians and the Mesopotamians, you know where the wars are, and they admit Venus is an Italian goddess of the fields, with a shitckle of Isis throne in as this book loves bringing up Sam Hein, and a Roman Halloween. The writer, or translator, sees a honorable roman trying to hold back the first of many later messiahs who dare come to Rome and Italy looking for vines and women, and explains to them all past perfect, that for the temerity of calling himself a God, Romulus, is attacked by thunderbolts sent by Jove, again the Roman law of know they place. Easily when in ermine and silk. There is, he admits here, no word for SHE in Spartan Greek, only the definition for heifer or nag, as a horse. Remember that one, when the hags of empire start bitching about how they are above reproaches and beyond mere pronoun, that they don’t even bother to hide their knives well, and I, whatever I am, am not on the same side as some other greasy grimy weirdo Bob Hopeless who is doing the bidding of a Bush family, which just as Gore said they do, left the room a total mess. Maybe the land and the in laws who took Coriolanus, not even making it a comedy, as the early Italian did, he was a buffoon, ask Bill Clinton, he knows, and instead put it on in the park, a second straight year of others playing Romans as they all demand equitable casting, with literally buckets of blood. We are here to adore at the goddesses of comedy and tragedy, and not make I spit on your grave. I made a vow, a magical decree to my Mom that id send a curse on all those people in the curia who were going to get what they deserved, and in a matter of weeks, why the once Machiavellian democrats who had a wayward Augustus riding on triumphal chariots, with streamers and standards of yellow mistress ties, I won’t ever let you forget, not that tyrant Harvey has ever read Ovid, god knows, couldn’t put on a god damn Caucus, as smart are they, that the Romans put on in the bronze age. And when they stop putting them on, then you really have a snootful. Again, the empire strikes back. Destroy the republic…there an app for that…

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