Tuesday, December 11, 2018

11,388. RUDIMENTS, pt. 531

RUDIMENTS, pt. 531
(nightmare nation/rumination)
Pt. 2 - Othello killed Desdemona:
It was never about 
anything really and 
if I had to tell you 
you wouldn't get it 
anyway : (piece-post 
pell mell snackinfoo 
and the riddle from 
quark o'mania province) : 
when I'm in a roomful 
of people I'm an instantly 
dangerous man looking 
around for the one with 
the gold and seeking 
to find the girl from 
Wysteria Weems, Ohio,
 the old rubber town :
 'we make nothing 
anymore' the old-timer 
says 'this dang country's 
so far down the tubes 
they can't even flush 
it away...and when 
I was a boy...' someone 
else cuts him off 'shut 
up you old bag of shit ! 
I'm sick of hearing you!' 
and the guy walks off 
with the handle to the 
counterpunch cabinet 
that held the weekly 
list : so we had nothing 
more to do and were 
able to just sit there - 
of course some jerk 
soon brought out a 
deck of cards (I surely
HATE people who play
cards) although I never 
played, nor even ever
minded them before 
the first but no matter 
because whenever 
they park their cars 
they right away start 
talking about their 
daughters 'I'd never 
let her go out with 
THAT slimeball - fer' 
Chrissakes he THINKS 
with his dick I've heard 
it said' and then the 
door opens and in 
comes some guy named 
'Santerge', a minister's 
kid and he quickly says 
'Over here ! my father's 
dying of the flu!' and I 
ask 'well can't he just 
pray for something 
new?' meaning what the
hell - he's the minister 
not me - but the kid 
didn't get my meaning 
and started screaming 
instead - yelling about 
his mother being dead 
already and he'd be an 
orphan so I slapped him
up to shut him down,
(like in the movies I'd seen,
some lame, flamboyant
gesture) and I said 'man shut 
it ! you're only talking 'bout 
the flu' and he said yeah 
but he'd read somewhere
 that in like 1918 it had 
killed lots of people 
real quickly and I said 
'yes but that was long 
ago - now the lines are 
shorter and news travels 
quicker' and that shut 
him up so he went away 
- but anyway when I 
really did check I found 
out that the flu among 
all those 1918 people 
was in reality (medical 
science now says) an 
endemic reaction by a
sort of mass-hallucination
of the myopic crazed 
psychic fear and the
displacement caused 
by WWI just ended,
amongst an American 
populace un-used to 
anything like that 
before and although 
this all may SOUND 
weird it is really 
true and documented 
and a reputable point 
of medical view (see 
Harvard; see the 
CDC in Atlanta - see 
whomever  you'd like 
to see but DON'T see
me) - then the fire-bell 
tolled and the harbor-wharf 
was wiped clean with 
some sort of Windex 
slime rolled over by 
wheels and a couple 
hundred fish swam 
up and began licking 
the wood with their 
crazy fish tongues 
and then they all 
rolled over and got 
washed out to the 
harbor again with 
the next splash-wave 
of wake and wind 
together (something 
I'd not ever seen 
before) and the 
beautiful girl on 
the trundle-bed 
nearby was playing 
Hoagy Carmichel 
on an old Victrola 
and it all sounded 
so nice I wondered 
how but I didn't say 
a word instead : 
watching cartoon 
characters take naps 
and watching Lindy 
Boggs (I think it was) 
eating cereal on the rim 
of the edge by the two 
window panes at the 
shaftway - she ate like 
a pig but kept it all 
clean : and then I 
remembered that 
dead Mayor of 
Princeton - the nice
woman with eye-patch
 - and I thought maybe 
that was her name 
too but really couldn't 
remember and promised 
myself to go look it up 
next chance I had (got 
a map of the graveyard 
and know right where 
she is) and then I saw 
the mutant go by (he 
was 'lazy good-looking 
and aristocratic' as 
my mother used to 
say) but there was 
nothing but marbles 
in that cheesecake and 
I knew it too - he was 
brutish and in reality 
as short as they come 
with an even shorter 
attention span (and 
my sister used to say 
'something shorter 
than that too') so let's 
just say 'GENIUS HE 
WASN'T' and leave it 
at that : heroes in my 
life come and go - 
Glenn Gould or Dicky 
Betts it hardly matters - 
and I could talk to anyone 
if they would just hold still 
- long enough for a riddle, 
long enough to fish, long 
enough to whittle, long 
enough to piss - but 
whether or not it makes 
any sense never matters 
and is never brought up 
and this is the age of 
wonders but I wonder 
if anything will last 
and that does it for me 
- evergreen trees are 
drying up dead - 
climates which 
change take old 
trees away and the 
world heaves and 
moves in mysterious 
ways - but never 
mind that anyway 
and truck farms grow 
no trucks so don't go 
looking just ask 
anyone who knows 
because those kinds 
of people just love to 
show off and tell 
everyone what they 
know BUT AS FOR 
ME I've taken forever 
a vow of shady silence 
and a very nodding 
acquaintance with it
all - so I won't even 
point : in Germany 
they train bears, and 
in ancient Greece an 
idiot meant someone 
who did not take part 
in public life : now of 
course it means just 
the opposite and how's
that for banana-cake?
-
I never try to be lazy,
I always stay busy, I'm
always on task, but there
are  -  and I admit  -  plenty
of things I was never good at.
At all. Changing those old
sink-washers and plumbing
and faucet things; I used to 
hate that. And, before the 
basic motorcycle went to 
belt-drive, adjusting chains 
was always a  real bust 
for me. I mean I did it, 
but never good, and 
never right. You can get 
a good idea of your
motorcycle's 'tracking'
by moving it along in 
light snow -  to see
if the one wheel runs 
right into line of the 
other. It should. A
stupid guy's chain 
adjust, it won't.
-
The only 'Savagery' 
we should look 
forward to is the 
savagery of the day 
when the cultural, 
creative, light-sword-
wielding masses rise 
up and smite these 
forms of pestilence 
in the name of the 
One True Constant 
- the creative and eternal 
life-force which is our 
Godhead. Gibbets, 
crosses, crucifixion-hills 
and torture palaces in 
Hell are already set-up 
for these one-dimensional 
political types who go 
through life understanding 
nothing and forcing 
the same on others. 
Their eternal damnation 
is already written. 
They will die not 
once, not twice, 
but a hundred times.




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