Sudetenland Tales by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Sudetenland Tales

Page 550

anyway. ...... Look, you’ve been straight with us. So, I’ll tell you something. Do you know where the Mob hangs out in Bayonne?”

Fred didn’t but said he did.

Vince said; “Yeah, 26th Street, a little up from Avenue C. Right, chief; at Joe Venuti’s house and restaurant. Don’t go in the front way. Use the alley and knock on the side window. That’s where people are who know where to find me.

Because I like you, I’ll tell you something else. You see pilgrim, to popularly sustain the fascism that favors the ‘Uniparty’ powers that be, most often recently disguised as Democrats, it is not necessary, as the dumb conspiracy theorists like Pymchon think, to overtly do any subterfuge. No. That’s a prescription for fucking up. It’s much easier and completely un-provable to just have the FBI and CIA paid flunkies back off their mission of infiltrating and arresting the criminal moulinyan monkeys, and bestow the moulies with magnanimous cops and courts; with some special exemptions for the Sharptons on the public dole who help keep things in and out of place as ordered, and laughingly watch as the predictably replaced Whites sound the alarm for ‘law and order.’ At that point the suckers consider every ‘official,’ little, moulinyani rebuke a gigantic favor. Celebrate. Collect your prize. You’ve won the retard