RUDMENTS, pt. 629
(the new peter principle)
The Purloined Letter.
The title always interested
me, and the fact that it was
written by Poe. But the rest
of it, not so much. I kept
running into Poe things
all along my early days in
NYC - he'd been around
a lot, 4th street, 3rd street,
the Northern Dispensary,
and then of course there
was (and is) the Poe Cottage,
way uptown, which in his day
was far-off farmland and that
was a rustic retreat. It all had
something to do (I forget now
all the incidentals, and no
longer actually care anyway)
with the death of his cousin,
with whom he was 'involved'
as they lived there - I think
she was the fated 'Annabelle
Lee,' but I'm not even sure
about that any longer. Do you
know how sometimes it goes
that the more you dig into
something, the crummier it
gets. It was like that with me
and Poe - The Purloined
Letter turned out to just be
the second or third of a three-
part detective story trilogy.
Nothing more boring than
that, to me. However, it
did all lead me to another
of the three, which fascinated
me. A piece called the Mystery
of Marie Roget had all the
mystique I needed. I researched
whatever I could and found
the episode really had occurred
and the poor girl's body had
been located (thus the mystery)
and buried in a Hoboken Cave,
along the waterfront. The story
a convoluted one, and Poe
much simplified what occurred,
but the location of the final
parts of the story actually
existed. Going there now, if
anyone normal can locate it,
(I have) there's even a plaque
and it's now a small, needlessly
non-descript roadside place.
Now all of this was from Poe,
my crossing into the territory,
and lifting a personal finger to
find' something out. Yes, it can
be done. In the same way, it
used (then) to be possible, just
upriver some, at Weehawken,
to walk the riverside field (and
see the dumb marker there too),
where Alexander Hamilton and
Aaron Burr had their duel. Where
the boat landed, and left from
too, with the dying Hamilton
on it. (Full disclosure: I'm a
Burr fan. Hamilton was a
twerp).
-
You see, just by scrounging
around you can pick up a lot.
There's nothing much left of
this nation's real past - it's
all been secluded and covered
over by the usual sorts. What
we suffer from now is lack of
brains. Don't take my word for
it, just visit someday the places
right around here where I live
now, and take a look at the
sorts of insipid scoundrels we
have in place. Disgusting
creatures, with a distaste
for nothing except the Truth.
They lie even to their mirrors.
The dearth of it all is no
brains. No follow-through.
No original thought. What's
the sense of living if you
never review your life?
Culture, and any patterns
of Culture have long ago
been eradicated by the dweebs.
In 1967, you could still just
barely find a thread of some
goodness to go by - Arthur
Godfrey and Perry Como
notwithstanding. (Good God,
keep away from those two).
The modern era, since those
days, has totally drained away
any idea of the 'Human' in
Human Nature. Man is a maker;
of dreams and ideal, and of
Art and creative endeavors.
When man (Homo Faber, Man
the Maker) stops creating, it is
dead. Man must use its creative
nature or be miserable.
-
I see a lot of that loss in my
everyday non-dealings, at
present. In fact, I can't hardly
stand people. In 1967 it was no
different, except that I was in a
completely different location.
I was in a place, this big, grand,
roiling (physical) city - not like
today's shit-world-follies where,
yes, it's all available, I guess, on
line, but there's no reality to any
of it, though these same people
accept it all as if it were. 'They
don't know shit from shinola,'
as dear old Dad would have
put it. Instead we get trundled
midget-warriors of mirth, with
their manufactured muddles of
empty-headed happy talk and
false resonances of illegitimate
regulations while driving their
little (free) caticars. Childishness
at 40 is still an incredible idea,
I guess. Some dads, on the
other hand, just never do grow
up. Giving back the creative
tools to a Human's mind could
be considered a wonderful
gift; if valued as such. Not here.
More important to pattern your
strokings to the 6:55 whistle
whilst you take the rest of
the place down with you.
-
Last chapter I mentioned that
being socialized is not the
same as growing up. And
that statement still stands.
I met a lot of angry dudes in
my days around downtown -
most of them were connected
to nothing. That's were most
people go wrong. They figure
that wholeness comes from
being part of a group; chumming
with the fire-guys or jamming
with the Elks. But it's the
opposite of that, for sure.
Wholeness comes when you
can finally vanquish the system
out from yourself, cast it off,
see it for what it is. Balderdash
and wicked falsities. Some of
these organized-man-chumps,
so rotten-headed as they are,
still go about prancing and
parading wrongly : They think
that 'Social Animal' means
'harmoniously belonging.'
But that's not it at all. Take
it from me. I've worked
alongside loners and killers
too. The real deals, with the
total separation from society
which that brings. And, mostly,
I ended up respecting them
more. A real, functioning,
human accepts that fighting
and dissenting are proper
social functions, and that
rebelling and fighting to
initiate fundamental societal
change IS a social function.
That's what America was
built around; far more trenchant
ideas, for sure, than community
days, beer blasts and staged
kiddie functions arranged by
supposed adults. Arrid Extra
Dry, anyone?
-
You can take it from me, with
years of experience, (stop your
sweating), the breakdown is
coming. And you won't know
how to react, or handle it, when
it does - neither with or without
your lawns, kids, wives and
girlfriends. Spectacular days
await. Here's a good one: I
have found that our abundant
society is at present simply
deficient in many of the most
elementary objective opportunities
and worth-while goals that
could make growing up
possible. It is lacking in enough
'man's' work. Real work, like
men used to do; reasoning and
fundamental - not the tax-crap
most 'men'end up doing today.
It is lacking in honest public
speech, and people are not
taken seriously. It is lacking
in the opportunity to be useful.
One thing I have founds is that
you will be tolerated only insofar
as you can be used. Taken in
as a functionary. Once it is
determined that you've begun
thinking for yourself, seeing
the other light, you are perceived
then as the enemy, a block, an
opponent, and your progress is
soon stopped. You are gone.
You get as far as you can get by
'going along' - once that stops,
'going along' - once that stops,
you're dead meat. That happens
anywhere there are men in suits,
structured organizations, and
predicated maneuvers and
situations controlled by others.
Oh youth! Don't get caught
in that. Rebel now, start early.
Wreck your home. Society right
now thwarts aptitude and promotes
and creates stupidity. Why should
anyone tolerate that? I'd seen
enough of a thousand glum
tenement faces - vacant and
barren - drifting through their
containers of rottenness, and
no one did anything to break
themselves free. At the corner
of e11th and 1st Ave was a
regular, chimed-in, assortment
of immigrant life - butchers,
bakers, the shoe guy, the fuel
merchant, the car shop, and a
hundred more. Life thrived
in that way - but no one really
ever talked sense outside of
the small and closed circle they
lived in. Anything other than
that was labelled subversion,
and in 1967 subversion was
still a hot topic. Now people are
just too stupid to read the brand
on the dead-guys' arms. All that's
needed is to wake up; wake up
and arise from your graves,
as it were, and aspire - to where
your sunflower wishes to go.
Society today corrupts fine arts;
has killed them, in fact. Patriotism
has been turned into a shambles.
Religious conviction has become
a joke, and what is peddled is
the idea that there IS NO creation.
It has no Honor. It has no
community. So, if you can or
wish to make a go of that, go
ahead, fool, don't let me stop
you. The perverted housewives
of Hollywood, I'm sure, will
be gaily playing soon at a
theater near you..
-
Final note: Our present condition
of semimonopolies, trade unions,
government, advertising, theater,
etc., (including a large bloc of
outlaw gangsters), thriving on
maximum profits and full
employment, for themselves
as their cronies - but without
any regard for utility, quality,
rational productivity, personal
freedom, independent enterprise,
human scale, manly vocation,
or genuine culture, is an
accommodation politicians
thrive on, while we are used,
squandered, and die. Le Roi
est Mort! (the king dead;
long live the King!).
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