THE SUGAR, SUGAR, BOWL.

 

02/09/24

Saw on some American scene magazine show on TV, what inst now, through the happy talk, that there is something now acceptable to a dyke queen like Rachel Maddox, which is strangely for all people have been lectured to by the comedy writers, called Galen-tine's day. But what is there that is Italian and or Roman that you over fed Hillary pigs don't think is ripe for your rewrites and your ridicule. Hey, I don't work for the armimentarium dears, and I font get paid out of the circus funds and propaganda expense accounts from a company that makes knives and flying Guillotines for Jews and some old coot who cliff noted his way away from Da Nang, which tears human beings limb from limb but don't give as many pesky sightings of broken walls last this all look like Sicily after the liberators from the tenth army. 

I am always amused that no matter how demeaning and destructing they are, Tolkien lovers from the dreaded BBC always utilize and constructor their velodrome argument that the Renaissance never happened by always first getting a ticket to Leonardo Da Vinci Airporta and then a quick bus ride to Venice or Naples, --despite clerically tinted you tube crap, Mediolanum has never been any fun, despite the cults of Satanism, --as making your arguments amid the decay and the stone masonry of empires long gone is always a visual heft,and who doesn't love a junket to mother NUMA AND SUNNY Italy, EVEN ANGLICAN BARBARIANS WHOSE LATIN PUT Tacitus TEETH ON EDGE, of one can always finagle it. 

The Superbowl though will have again a choir, when it the choirboys not black as night and doing the songs of dee old Negro spirituals, sur, as we will, if I even watch, I am a cowboy fan after all, what the hell do I care...?, and we shall hear something that makes Madwoman's batted, bedroom, eyes always tear up for all those n*88ers that Bill and Joe backhoes into maximum austerity prisons sur, the black national anthem, you jail yurrr blacks, thank you, next please. Oh, why this is funny to me, is that another attempt at the walking Adams apple who is trying to finally win one I'm sure he was programmed, or at least penciled in, when he with a twenty point lead kept hiking the ball with 27 seconds left in a thirty second clock to make sure that somehow the team of cheaters actually came back in one, and don't you ever ask why. Funny ,mostly because the ketchup colored team in a Superbowl of garments all red, too red, although it does cover the blood as Zeke's blue never much did, an Italian quarterback was the last to play in this direful game, replaced by a first round draft pick negro Trey, now in blue too, and all were replaced by a Huck Finn—I'm with Trapper on that affectation—who I do hope loses badly to the black man with blue eyes, who doesn't have them, and to Conan meets Betty, and too a team of scrubs and a fatso piggish coach who wanted a Superbowl more than he ever wanted a living son, but then Biden-ism is our captain of the black ship of state. I Decided, wanting no part really of this Gypped tale with too much cash, leaving I have guessed just the vulgarity, wanted no part of Mr Irrelevant as the new Brady, or the love affair subteen Betty and Moose, my River-dale was school shooting long ago, with Jug-head as besotted by Veronica,weren't we all, and there are no busty dark haired Jane's anymore, cue Carol, oheeeowoweeeohweohoho ohoooooo...the roar of the greasepaint. I defied it's less gladiatorial more commercial attributes,  to make instead of buying a  single thing, conjured up  my moms baked Ziti, but with bow-ties, so if it is a Sunday Saturnalia as some hair flipping cow at the Times said as much let it be so and let the silent Echo burble off screen. Aw, Hunny Hunny...

Saw the beloved by me since i was a boy, Diane Lane, to me, outside of Wendy and Patty, a perfect girl, a perfect girlfriend that the cows around here never measured up to, as if I ever wanted any of them, as she was on a show that is reinstatement to me of an episode of I love Lucy, in which Lucy and Desi to a morning show for a mythical Macy's, which is mentioned by name when Orson would do one of the last shows before dared bloat TV pirate doge William Paley would demand the Ricardo's move to Larchmont, or the New Rochelle,  which is now in ruins. As is so much. Diane, a perfect carting, is Slim Keith one of the many swans as they are called in a show on ironically the auditorium of television, yes even considering the Simpson was birthed there, on Fauuuuuuuxxxxx, THAT waist thirty years of trashing the Clinton to be on the sides of an idiot who is now screaming, as I said Bellcheat would be in his third act, at the fallen eagle, or it is buzzard on the less than Roman wall. 

She is in another slab at, as it were, attempt to refereeing the dilapidation of the once glittering I you we all love New York, and the days I see replanted each day as we watch the odd couple as a respite from the goons of television, and they are attempting again to make Gore Vidal look like an Auger as they make Capote gave the sort of Moment seen in a film about the English in the ruins of Florence, another junket had and made by barbarian trods, as the once pretty and pre witchiepoo Helena Carter played a last sort of remnant of femininity that Capote would have so liked. 

I was alas not schooled to know the rewriting of the book called Capote and the swans which is a recommended buy much on my amazon page, that many a swan was exerted out, Ala Hilary by meathead, and that Gloria Guinness and Gloria Vanderbilt are excised out of the mini series, as recalling that mumsy didn't recognize Anderson Coppers father at the famed and now shut down La Cote Basque in 1965, the year of my birth, I came in much too late devotee of Paddy and Truuuman, wouldn't be something that the voice of spring on CNN would much like as he is now stuck carrying Biden's corpse down a ravine of history, and again, is Virgil unwittingly and without the humanity, Valdimere, played for too many laughs. The salon is licked, and even the Long Branch saloon isn't what it used to be. 

They wish, as do I, I guess, wish to return to the thrilling days of yesteryear, with Truman Capote and Lone Ranger, and recall the days of Technicolor empire which like the ones before, always think they will last forever until one smells the soots of decline, and the one too few centurions is replaced by the one too many welfare queens who think again they are owed forever, until the marches have to fill up with those over fed once Italians avoiding a LOMBARDY THAT TO TELL THE TRUTH RECALLING THE old men who weren't all from Sicily and how played penockle with my Calabrian father, the barbarians and their daughters aren't as adored by even the northern Italics as they are by Jews and say member of the lackadaisical crime family the BIDENS. HE IS HAVING AS I WRITE THIS HAVE TO COME OUT, MY BROTHER INFORMS ME, A Clinton with teeth and with who stands for something and cant be given a pail and a mop to clean up the Biden's various spillage from his various orafaces that strain the imperiled floors, accidental Caesar had to come out and scream at us all that despite whatever con job was used by his minions to make sure he was not held accountable for anything still, well, such was a lie and he is not in fact at all befuddled or a useless old man in Roman drag, as the buzzards circle about him as he tried to make it across what may or may not look like the mid twentieth century Mojave that once adorned the cover of a fag rag named Esquire magazine. Such a revelation, I am not a crook as all like him are reduced to, Gore said that whatever he says the truth is the exact opposite, if anything is true at all, and him assuring the bird of the wall, his crumbling imprimatur, now a rubber chicken as much as anything, that he is not in fact and enfeebled old coot who spends the time sleeping and doesn't even recall the detah of his Achillied son, you know the moment that made my mother shudder at what we, or they, we are not a we to them, but a them, and orange now too, that he told as was looking at his dying son, that don't worry, Junior, it isn't the shining river and the chariots of any Roman hidden gods that no matter the kismet we all do still believe in, the Germans sing of Hercules, a lime of Tacitus drunken by that suicide hagiographer of German mentioned before, no, don't worry Son, he said now infamously, he just had Steven Colbert on the pad, and whatever was going to happen, it was be a way to strega both Trump and remotely Bill Clinton WHO HE, A GOOD RINO AT HEART, WOULD MAKE HIM PAY AS THEY HAVE BEEN CHARGED TO, FOR THIS PLEBEIAN with a fetish for Lynda Crater, and ill keep them out of the White house, as the alderman could think of nothing else as he watched his on son dine in Hell, meatless of course, we must make up for all those steaks and women the gladiators of Long Island ate up. 

But by now, that was old hat, and he would have more dead children than Constantine, who Dante would place in hell, for the temerity to not only turn his back on Rime, but to go as his ilk like Biden now show, always going in the wring direction. Henry Clay or Sejanus is quickly dying and I'm not sure I even much care anymore, as a stone soup pf bad clams is being portaged and boiled, bubbled and troubled, in a pot in story that though I got some admiration's as usual from a Disney office girl, was a take out of Basile, retold in the brothers Grimm's, that alas even before the transfiguration of drag queens as our low rent, vulgar vestals, the Rat Patrol had no confidence in, much less wanting then a brunette Princess as was had in whitest snows of the alps once. With the democrats, like with some apparatchik basically admitting an running for president is an enfeebled old corpse awaiting his pyre, despite his Catholicism, he too like the negro who brought him back has a what sister Cecilia would call juvenile delinquents love of CONAN THAT HAS ALWAYS LEFT ME COLD, on is never sure if an unsought through slip of the tounge was indeed instead, a slip of the knife. Right this way, MISER PRAETOR WERE HAVING CLAM CHOWDAH TONIGHT IN THE MEATLESS state dinner, sur, but there's always the NAVY BEAN, ALTHOUGH LIKE AL Jaffe, try not to old man your way through the bowl of LENTILS, SUR, and here some nice HEMLOCK TO WASH IT DOWN. AH, when Capote's your Dante, girls beware the table stetting that are a bouquet of Belladonna, y'all. IN THE SATYRICON, and took my share from cvnts and dimwits who openly hated that faggot they called it comic book, juts like how my superwoman all looked like Jane Russel once and were called chubby by now awakened dc queens, an old saddened cretin Machiavellian bumbles through Shady Groves and Dusts off a eulogy he has been itching to give. 

Twas right on the cusp of my decent from being a scholar boy and allowing things to get out of hand, and being banished from the kingdom as had been. But, it was 1977 when I started to get tired of being such a good boy, and when asked who was the most tragic figure in a horrid play called ROMEO AND Juliette, MISTAKENLY STOLEN FROM THE GREAT SATURNALIA Italians by that cretin Willie, as the life of Clinton was stolen by that creep who doesn't have the heft to wear that costume, sometime the most important part of casting, do you in fact, look the part, I said, being a smart assed boy man, Italy, although I wasn't as kidding as my smile would indicate. A nun took much empathy on and for me, and agreed, as did the Jesuits as did the Italian like Scalia and others when is a kid I was indeed against LBJ's latest con artsy for the Negros he had to have and couldn't get, as its never held against some like Kennedy that he was actually at clubs that were restricted, or that Bill Clinton signed the defense of the confederate flags as they had, but some losers on the imperial parade are never forgiven nor are their slights ever really forgotten. He admired my pluckiness, and my Italic satire, now we just get smirking queens who took the side of a hated man, even Carson knew, friend of Vidal and Bug-eyes, who Lucius Sejanus was, as he was literate in a way that this bra snapper never can be now, as alas, once again it is too late.

She liked my classical airs now held against me as no longer do I have to just be happy and appreciative of the people of Virgil and political cartoons be so demeaned and tested, now even lately, or at least more lately than Bella Abzug, I am told what chat shows I must admire as they are willing to ridicule with and not at you, appending. She liked my classical intentions and that I had a feeling even then, the age of King Tut and a Joliet Jake I wasn't allowed to play, having I guess been too much as a Roman willing to beat up prissy Albert as a femmy Jesu, she was glad someone care about the old Italian and the old cities as I had, and that the women who got a affirmative action now wop ever got despite, or because of Bread truck drivers like Sacco, that the only Romantic thing ever written for them was the abortion provider bills that were at least dutch treated by the creeps who got these gals, not ever her-story professors by the way,as John Bolton, not my friendly guest, has never had to navigate the dead and dying as war is always something as Coriolanus said, out there somewhere. Palestinian refugees it is now said, are left bleeding amid the dead and the dying, and I can say to a crew of materialists and killers who somehow were able to excuse or even forgo the fall of Rome, once the gates fall in, dear, there are no Ivory towers tall enough to keep the decay and the rot at bay. 

 

 

 

 

A NOTE ON SUGAR, SUGAR BOWL. I thought it would be jarring to see, of all people, Jon Stewart come back after this long October war, silent while 30,000 people were sacrificed to his Odin of Syrians, but just the sight of him on some Hollywood wrap up, movie-tone, news dinner hour, Babylon roundup was more than just that. As house Negroes and Lesbians try so vainly to somehow save what is left of their souls, nothing like a stage whispered epithet, proves one cares, while still being paid by the war consortium, Stewart, like dreaded Colbert , has no such bell to answer, or to salivate to and because of hearing. He is owned after all by Mount Puragtorio, where Sejanuses meet and greet amid the alpine snows, and after all did hear too that that Paramount did one too many star tracks and will indeed be putting half its work staff again, in garments all red. But seeing him was more than just discordant, it was a ruin, a left behind Roman play misjudged , miscast, mis costumed, like Coriolanus was, and Biden is now. He was something almost Obscene with his Droopy, Cinderfella charm and his thrown up hands and his Aye chi wahwah acts, as hell be on one night a week, which to be fair, is more than he ever did for Mother Hillary, I wonder if she noticed that, in the cellars at shady groves, but I bet on nothing about those two, anymore. It was made even more obscene as the plotted for saint valentines day parade turned into first Ray Millan in the lost weekend, I saw drunken, unraveling, another burnt offering on the pyre of American Plastic, Kelsey then quick cut to the massacre of people just at one of Lucius parades, but alas, when a lover of death gets in, well, that all he can bring, and a Jewvanel grinning through it is again, almost repulsive. Almost as bad at eleven o'clock after the day of massacres coming home to roost, this corpse coming out with wifey Lady Macbeth, on-wards and upwards!, to wish everyone a happy Valentines day, SEE, HE CAN BE UP AT 11 AT NIGHT, SEE, SEE, or Galentines day, if you are a white woman who works at CBS. And to think, these undesirables who wont and cant allow a DuPont bag man to be RFK, have that detestable Catiline leading this corpse man by 15 pionts in the new polls. Again, its a devotion no one showed Mother Roma that night that health care was defeated by lifer senators. Is it just me or is Colbert starting to become before us all Milburn Drysdale, without the warmth...? Its called unintended consequences, Mister Gibbon...Take the last train to Clarksville,  and i'll meet you at the station...

 

CONANIZATION. 22 JANUARY 2024.

 

IT turns out that the Omnibus I bought, practically stole,at 18 dollars going back to the echos of my boyhood life when I tried to steal as many MARVEL COMICS as I might, not wanting to ever give The House of Stan a hay-penny of my fathers pension money, which believe it or not, I as calculatedly circumspect in the spending, and only bought those comics and art supplies I absolute thought needed.

So, far it reads like a Hitler adored opera, the horrid, endless, off key German kind, at which is a kind of sword the drowning in blood Germans have been grasping at as they attempt in Vineland, as my father warned me, to have to have had nineteenth raconteur goons like Howard and Tolkien, and ether typewrote Homer's, Virgil is indeed out of the question, and them giving a German horde, an ancient virtue that they, the old man told me, assuredly did not possess. It is basically Mein Kamph with prettier art, but certainly not Bushema or Franzetta, who could somehow almost Italianate humanize theses savages as Cornelius the senator had done before, but these Germans do not sing of again, Hercules, if they can at all help it.

BEST parts so far in this brick of literature befitting the obsoleted and the delinquents that sister Cecilia warned me thereof, certainly scantily clad women as LILLIAN Gish TYPES, THE FLOWER OF BARBARIC WOMANHOOD WHO Conan must save from barely disquieted, civilized, here a bad word, Roman sperm, tres as the Germans say, Birth of a nation, when they aren't the brass bikini-ed dreams of masturbatory little boys. The Arabs don't come off too great, when dealing with Conan and his poor-man's Burrows, Strange tales, depression era gloom, the difference only a fat little piggish mommas boy can come up with, the terms soldier and warrior are juxtaposed as only a coward could do, our fedora-ed foot soldier alas only kilt himself, as thought of the Cesarean line that the Romans like assassins and Kings-men and seals and such, that the word foot soldier, when preceded by ROMAN WAS HIGH AN HONOR ENOUGH. GOD I AM STARTING TO HATE THIS BOOK AND SINCE GOT TWO VOLUMES for about 18 dollars a piece and with a gift certificate, I may , once having vulture it for each image I wish to crib and swipe, I may just throw it out , although the lovely art is a nice textbook to have laying around and who knows if CAN GET IT ALL DOWN ON NEWSPRINT anyway.

 

 

I Am glad to know that the Praetor who seemed to illogical , anti Clinton and all, be against the Romans and the Italians be buffed and rebuffed by the waves of the Neptune adventure of a careless seaman and a wayward sailor into the doldrums he never understood but was headed for those ricks anyway all along. But, what do I, Jesuit student ever know among the over fed white chicks. …? o, Roman ghosts, worse than anything in any wayward EC comics thrown aside by my brother, comics now worth god only know-how much, that I have been assured Hillary admirers as valedictorian of her era and ilk once did, after all, Proletariat and hammers and sickle are theirs, not to mention the noble Savage so adored now by overfed white girls at the buffet, but as my pop warned me, let them get into legal trouble or arrested and watcher the foot soldiers of Jewish redaction who speak a kind of simple school Latin, good enough for clerical work, appear out of the mista. I recall how I said, before Trump ever came down an escalator, a Giant moment I would reprise, juts to get under that goon on CBS fake skins, I do recall and said as much, that this whole thing was headed towards the riots years ago, just out of a secret inner instinct for what fools these mortals be ,as Seneca and not Willie said,and now the GE Theater maidians and two Cahhapiqua aging scholars, like something out of beloved Goremengast. So, to those who think I hate all English literature, no its juts the crappy sort, the racists sort, the sort that tidied with Hitler and Mussolini when they were just using Sardinia's and Gypsies as slave labor and wasn't yet evil enough to pick on the left behind German in laws of Hollywood cinematographers and rag time zoetropists, they are stuck with a dragooning idiot at 75 percent disapproval, which sincerity hope makes Mario in some music of the spheres. somewhere laugh and laugh.

 

BEFORE THIS MIASMA OF INCOMPETENTS, I spoke of that Romans day when a senator called Cato and his men were savagely beaten by Caesar's men on the stones of the senate which, to be fair would get its bigger, better pound of flesh later on. The mere undesirable people were stunned, as I read, not in a queer or white barbarian comics, and aren't they somewhat the same...?, and the God CAME OUT OF HIS DRINKING BUDDIES HAUNT IN ROME, to see the people stunned to see that a senator as so treated, and if he, with a name older than Caesar's on Trojan boat lifts manifests, was so treated and what would he have then in store for them. Oh, always show his compliance to that great plebeian shore so feared and demeaned in Shakespeare and Hillary at the breakfast nook, Caesar proceeded to as he hallways did, act as if he knew nothing of this, sorry, unlike barbarian one cant in Rome, just kill kill kill with dripping in red four color ink red ink, as is seen here, omnibus indeed, I hope Howard is again pelted with forks in A Dore Landscape, and showing again, Rachel, the duplicity that can become stupidity this close to the armimentarium, at least Caesar went to war and knew that the Germans were always That way. BACK then, he made a melodramatic drag queen's point, he started calling the war fiddles of blood a theater of war , unknown to television illiterate Joy Bahar who thought black Friday a racists term, of course when you have done black face in that strange pandemic of them on television, I guess one must lay it on as thick s a segregationist might, he as usual, worthy of Alexander or maybe Mary Martin, Liza comes to mind, in perfect pitched Sondheim politics, he made adaption that his men, his minions, trained to drink blood as he damned of them, a senator it seems was too far a field for his killing, and he made a point of hanging the soldiers public-ally to the people, to which one of those Muppet show senators who ere in the balcony, making snide remarks, like the one who said of the father of noble savagery , Cornelius Tacitus, That his heart might be in Germania, but his balls are ensconce din loveliest Naples, ALONG WITH THE COMELY LADIES AND THE PENNY LOVING BOY WHORES. It is a history that no amount of wedding licenses will ever paper over, sorry, but Rachael Maddow isn't my friend. 

 

 

The adoration where is after all strange, but were , or they were just training to sell funny books after all, like Uncle Stan whose Sysosset Robert Moses hated ghettoization always left me, and pop , cold, as it is again different from the equally Jewish whitewashing one gets from them. I MAY AFTER ALL KEEP THE two massive scrolls, the codex like so much as an ITALIAN AFFECTATION, AND LIKE TOBACCO AND FIREWORKS AN ALWAYS depressing, always schemer Dr. Tolkien made sure somehow was seen in some pre history named for, no less, what the Romans called Mediterranean or Middle earth. Red-lined now as much as ever, there goes the shire, as they have to put and preen that somehow that missing scarp never mentioned in Tolkien dreadful Brutus land, yes that is what it means, but then affectation is job 1, I wouldn't have touched as an actor anything close to that shire itself, or the hairy feet-ted dwarves so much more human than he saw the Urals, Turks and Italians no less, as I asked of those who spake of his and wards hatred for Rome, they fought back you see, as Apaches don't often do, and black haired plebs willing to fight and father Ginnocchi told me of my own self, when not playing for laughs or time, or both, is after all, their greatest fear. But alas, unlike many a noblest American savage, no tin stars on my vest. Now that screeching Indian is not bracketing Howdy Doodit, but callas a smirking queer creep who like them all is vanning to evens say that well if you THINK that Biden is DROWNING AT 30 approval, whee now he is actually Loved they have to say, again showing the Machiavellian ethic to JEW boy Johnnie and the Hi-ate Ash-bury remnants, if one even asks certain questions in politics they are, by the merest asking answered the question, and are behind the eight ball, as sadly to white women, Billiards , like Tarot cards and bagpipes and imperial fiasco have an Italianate genesis, and you try getting away with that, though I heard it said by now less than To Tell the truth's Gary Moore, before Coppola and Scorsese made the open distrust, demeaning and diminished of Italianate into a new and needed minstrel show.

 

But, also, I find the mystery of the piece and why I got this massive two books out of five I guess for twenty busk. PAGES THAT ARE MISSING, LITERALLY TURN OUT, I SEE THE jagged edges of missing paper. I RUN MY HAND OVER THE ACTUALLY BETTER REMOVED THAN ONE WOULD THINK bits of paper, but now see why this was sold so eagerly and willingly to me, and at such a cut price. Hummmn, what could this mean, and moreover do I much care. There is enough musculature here amid the anti Roman bloodletting of this future then Virginal suicide, this two bit hack writer of pulps that I don't see the over fed Hillary voters ever bitch about, as they do Gore's beloved he man Tarzan, I read the only thing that the comics reporter could find that day that Vidal died, was his famous essay and his love of TARZAN, which was line of demarcation as it as when i was a boy, amid the nuns and priests, the brethren, of course belonging Tarzan, and the nuns assuredly not, but then I read Gores famous Remembering Tarzan, whosoever image to me seems to haunt these pages as Letterman still haunts the alcoves of the Ed Sullivan theater, as there is a loveliness and a decency to Tarzan that this barbarian man cvnt will never ever approach. If this was pulp it was of a lower sort, a low rent low brow kind, that will never get the penguin classics treatments that Tarzan has, as there is , dear I say, a love of the earth, the beasts of the field, Gaea herself that the less than sanctimonious ER BURROWS GOT INCULCATED INTO THE APE MAN, that the filthy little last picture show, Texas cretin, who couldn't even have the Petronius, the Romans all queers you see, a Bush family credo not too long ago, when kicking Sicilians woman's asses, Roman bath and did commit suicide the way that unknown cops have had to do since the Serpico days of the shoo flies of IAD. Bye Bob, quick take a swig.

 

 

Is this small hole in the wholes, is it the eraser that this was sold to me, eagerly and willingly, since it was a sister's gift certificate anyways, and why were these pages taken out and left a space of banding betwixt and been I think a Dante-an walk to hell, and an Oviddian trio of witches, to show again, that the white trash low brows still steal from Mother Hesperia, even when they don't mean or think they are. It looks like, I don't know, 20 pages of somewhat nice paper, but this is only Conan one could hear them say at Dennis Kitchen table, lets not go nuts, but what on earth was here....? I deduce what I can, Only murders in this comic book, and it is rather, departure from the art disparaging enough, not being a barbarian inclined kid myself, I rather liked Jesuitica worm holes, sixty word Machiavellian sentences, and what the barbaric call Technicalities, as if pressed, as in Sicily, one could always if need be, a good Roman hero federated boy I, take matters into my own hands ,and if it was important enough, and only then does Punctura not detract you for it, well, as Ma said, had she been raped as so many wannabe Italian perimeters war brides were indeed in the age just before New Rochelle was rotten with swingers, as opposed to grandmas deaths, there would be two dead bodies, her rapist and herself as ma, like Caesar, naturally given to the theatricality all wops so do adore.

From page 406 to 424 are excised out, which after all, is somewhat fitting to a book lionizing a barbarian cretin. Here, though, mere accident, I'm not so sure. I haven't been back to one of those View Comics web-sights in a lonnnnng while, since was hording Mads of my youth now long gone, but I WENT TO THE PHONE, why I wasn't sure why, maybe I was saving time and data charges or whatever, but I went to the View comics like site and downloaded Conan omnibus part 3 part 5, sure that this was as far as I WAS GOING WITH THIS, AND WENT ABOUT TO GO BACK TO THAT DIRECTION OR DE-MENTION OR WHATEVER IT WAS, AND BUY THE OTHER BOOKS OF THIS, GOD KNEW.

The page seem in this downloaded scroll, to be Conan as they adore drawing him , bare chested heroes like Hawk man and many a bandoleer wearing shirtless hero of the golden age, bares chested heroes, like woman not in skirts, do bother so the always young obsoleted out that, that originally as the Roman could have told you, get worse when a decline and fall occurs. 

 

 

Although the art is exquisite and to my taste not always true in post Curt Swan comics, and Romita and Bueshema and even , Franzetta are like the three ghosts of the Old Saturnalia story, stolen and grave robbed by Charles Dickens, like so much as from the Patria, I must say this is a horrid thick book in many ways, and wonder if it has been apologized for as so much has to allow the same mid level clerical Jews who ran CBS ten years ago to besot woke now, lest like Hillary Uppers and smiling goons aide de camps, they know never anything about why they were laughing by the way, yes believe that, they end up in jail and or a limbo of Dworkins lesbo dreams of conquest, this time, with her as Alexander as she somehow thinks she immune to all Venus' diseases but the feared to her matrimonial. It is an awful book and I wonder if, with moral imperative, if I might just chuck it and chalk that twenty bucks, not a barbarians ransomed, unmentioned here buy that fedora capped, Bonny and Clyde era, virgin suicide, as a mere loss. But, the art which I have eager used, somehow I realize after so long my 1974 ethics of never wanting to copy art from anyone, was indeed holding me back. I cannot stand this Primo Carnara upon whom, Irony is our national creed, is the basis for the massive creature of an illiterate, barbarous, God. Maybe its the same one, more or less to has taken all those Palestinians as a healthy human sacrifice, showing again, with mere blood sport, the Romans WERE PIKERS AT ALL OF THIS AS you manifest destine sorts and holy bookmakers never are. The missing pages I take it now, were devoted to an again villain going to kidnap, from what I gather, an Aryan princess, though like his missing and tragic beloved, there is no trick this TEXAS DUST BOWL HOMER SUNG, and funnily again, this girl in brass swimsuit, is taken pensioner by a deacon who looks suspiciously like an Arab, if not a Moslem, ah a hatred of Rome, again, it just is the top of that iceberg, as once again, the west unites at the grandest times. I only spent twenty for this scarred book anyway, and decided I WILL INDEED KEEP IT, but not buy another page, as I am sure I can always guess where this slop is headed, once it spills off the table. Did I say I prefer Tarzan...? 

 

 

Of course, Tarzan never killed anybody, but I guess uses apes, which is verboten to the coed crowd,as apposed to Conan, who is constantly mired in vampire drips of blood, with stagger than mere a love of death like say Biden, whose love of dying,could even get John Bolton to sign on, my ma saw dint even except his own family, so what chance do you gots, as she said about equally house of strangers nobody American dream criminal The Ornagemen, now I take it like so many lost to a war age history now completely passed. IT WAS SOME BROTHER ON ARMS IN little Chicago, whose Mario Puzo used killing of his own brother made my mother exile him from the candy store of her American life, and soon enough as she became sadder and sadder, soon enough all the Italian animals who had somehow gotten on this side of that golden door, as prospered to penetratingly enough, Rome, which would take polish priest and Spanish ghouls as princes before they'd take a siclianate and which gives us the Scorsese that it does. As I say to my share of sanctimonious white girls, Hillary hand maidens, but with fat ankles, Tolkien was never my friend, and so far this feast of Janus, I have placed both the winder days of the Etruscan's, ANCIENT ROMANCE –7 JANUARY 1147 since the foundation of Villanovis, and now saw at 9:10 on the phone as the bleak house is itself getting what it deserves and lives in abject fear of him not being able to get a majority of the new Hampshire primary he calls now meaningless as what did they ever do for him, he keeps ledger, when he had to drop out when I WAS FIFTEEN OR SO, AND HE SAID, REALLY AND FER TRUE, that because when Neil Kinnick was his Cyrano and whispered in his old mans then ear, what to say to the res Publican Roxanne, that the Biden's as a crime family were kept out of Harvard for, wait for it, a thousand years. This is the guy who doesn't bother George Will as much as Brother Bill did, but then it is a credo among some, I was warned again, that above all else they must think they are the brightest boy in the classroom, even as ecologically when they are not. Lisa Simpson as president after all. They are in a thicket of plebeian angers and revoltedness, the undesirables, alas dear Tyberius have indeed , as Bush would once say of Sicilians, no fooling but since he was a war hero from that great Punic war with Prussia, they have indeed, despite it all, multiplied like rats in the imperial sewers, SATIRE , LIKE Juvenal SOMETHING TO BE IGNORED, IF NOT BURNED, BY THE MIDDLE BROWSED DAUGHTERS OF MERRY Windsor. Should the young and vital and lovely Princess too pretty for that royal familial be struck down, will not bigger check and all of its minions and man shwo left not cry on cue, as the death since from Camilla that wont stop....they will also, but then I had read the Histories of Sallust a forth favorite by Georgetown Bill, whose take on Tolkien, I have never much gleaned, but I am sure Obama, like Conan and batman just loves it all so. 

 

Atalante. "Sorry, there is nothing in Tolkien I didn't read in Ariosto first." --CS Lewis.

And late at night, saw been accepted by a sword and sorcery, if for no better than the question elicit from some, why don't the Italians count, and there again, I plea Punctura as true to Roman heartiness, satire is my steerage weapon, and turned that about on some hack who thought he was making a mere joke, as it inst so far , a goddess of punctured balloons, far from the dice players and the mistresses and the street walkers and the house wives and the pimps and the trademark of old Rome, that Biden and his ilk now gears having discounted them far too long. Cue Ronald Coleman in the cart, tis a far far better thing, as hell play that bitchy scene for all its worth, but I still egg on Clinton who knew that that Queer Dickens once thought eve the northern Italian gals, I can use gal now, a fat overwritten, piggish Hillary drag queen smiling idiot broad with unwatched TV shows told me as much, all looked like Wicca's anyway, as his fag ilk would once.

HERE somehow wrote by a Homer again who densest quite match up with the source material, a vizier as much as anything, or at least he is drawn that way, the written annals of this boxer as he was based on according to this cretin from Texarkana, this low level Burrows without the warmth, and yet somehow, amazingly to me not as consonantly now huranaged as I once was by Biden devotees, the praetror to you roman hating white trash piggish left behind Bars and matrons, those who keep and kept their dismay at Hubby , Boobster loving Bill, to a quietest desperation, The Sultans keeper of Aryan devotion, allows these stories somehow to be taken and seed the earth by the use of birds of prey, black crows so hated like the wolf who again, doesn't know, or want to know, his doggies domesticated place. HERE there are moments of well drawn Complication that ruing strangely with the freer days pre segregationist who like his black superber though I recall the idea floated that eh was a coequal as you'd expect from a goon from Dixieland, or at least Toxic DuPont fields, which is of an age of women as barely above meat, Madonna whore complex is everywhere, but again, brass bikinis for all vestals, wolves are evil, Grimm's taught us that, Arabs are not much better though the Arabs don't have the cold eyes of Lupine as Ma would often say. HERE, is this pulp hero I can barely call him that, I think previously mentioned Iron jaw actually was more honest and not this awful, this always screaming screeching violent and on the rag human creature, a missing Pilt-down man from the Rhone, or whatever Rhone was there first somehow predating a TIGRIS SOMEHOW, ANYHOW, there are moments that tell all, like the brass bikinis, the always available dead skeleton that is one creepy villain after the other, and saw him beat a boy a child for having the temerity to say if he wanted a hotel room, well, that was seen as insult by our male Hillary, and pow! Wow, no Batman sound effect made the effects even screwed as how dare a kid who never saw you before ask you if you want to know the way to the original Howard Johnson's IN THIS WORLD THAT SOMEHOW PREDATED Mesopotamia but no one had seen the ravens bring the hidden , unharmed annals ever before the carbine or the combustion engine, as opposed to the pages Tacitus mentioned done by the greatest Roman historian, better than any mere insufferable Greek, whose works, like his grave, is lost to dark ages that tunelessly were never there , but which my pop told me had yet to recede.