Leibowitz Concludes by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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1) “Go Ahead; Piss All Over the Poor Angelic Editor” by Arthur
Blasingame
2) “It’s SOP, Cretinous Ingrate” by Arthur Blasingame
3) “Fuck You All; Eat Shit and Die” by Arthur Blasingame
4) “God Will Get You Someday” by Arthur Blasingame
Please paypal funds to the usual destination; $5.00 for one,
$9.50 for two, $13.50 for three, and $16.00 for all four,
including a computer-ready personal greeting and author
signature.
................
Dear Mr. Blasingame:
I’d just like to let you know that you’re a jerk. My poem which
you rejected for your big deal and appropriately named “Terror,
Scandal, and Rubbish,”(TSR) “That’s Too Big For a Bird,” was
accepted by and now is on the front page of “Incestuous Inter-
Species Orgies and Fuckery.” In fact you can click here to be
reminded of your blunder; www//in2specorfuk.com. They get
thirty-three times as many hits as TSR, and I guess your paltry
literary education ended before you got to Leda, ape fart.
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And just to further your F/Y/I, writing overt perversion does
not equal truth or honesty. If you won’t take my word, look the
words up in your Funk and Wagnalls. It’s just another tiny niche
genre aimed at a tiny niche market most will outgrow when they
get their high school diplomas or GED’s.
Your zine invites a sincere “fuck you.” So, in consideration of
that ruse, here is an insincere version of “FU,” with which you
are invited to do with as you will, the ultimate “choice,” a
possible re-do of a time worn plot, this time told in the
“innovation” ascribed to photographed, decorative undies.
Do you have any idea of what the f*** you’re doing? No
contradiction intended here, but expectantly taken there; your
zine is becoming so old school mainstream that I bet you
regularly read “PJ’s Rapturous WordWealth for Dweebs.”
Asshole.
Very truly yours,
Hipster Rene
“Bleak House”
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By Charles Dickens
“Bleak House”; public domain.
Sir Leicester Dedlock and his wife Honoria live on his estate at
Chesney Wold. Unknown to Sir Leicester, before she married, Lady
Dedlock had a lover, Captain Hawdon, and had a daughter by him.
Lady Dedlock believes her daughter is dead.
The daughter, Esther, is in fact alive and being raised by Miss
Barbary, Lady Dedlock's sister. Esther does not know Miss
Barbary is her aunt. After Miss Barbary dies, John Jarndyce
becomes Esther's guardian and assigns the Chancery lawyer
"Conversation" Kenge to take charge of her future. After
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attending school for six years, Esther moves in with him at
Bleak House.
Jarndyce simultaneously assumes custody of two other wards,
Richard Carstone and Ada Clare, who are both his and one
another's distant cousins. They are beneficiaries in one of the
wills at issue in Jarndyce vs. Jarndyce. Their guardian is a
beneficiary under another will, and the two wills conflict.
Richard and Ada soon fall in love, but though Mr. Jarndyce does
not oppose the match, he stipulates that Richard must first
choose a profession. Richard first tries a career in medicine,
and Esther meets Allan Woodcourt, a physician, at the house of
Richard's tutor. When Richard mentions the prospect of gaining
from the resolution of Jarndyce vs. Jarndyce, John Jarndyce
beseeches him never to put faith in what he calls "the family
curse".
Meanwhile, Lady Dedlock is also a beneficiary under one of the
wills. Early in the book, while listening to the reading of an
affidavit by the family solicitor, Mr. Tulkinghorn, she
recognises the handwriting on the copy. The sight affects her so
much she almost faints, which Tulkinghorn notices and
investigates. He traces the copyist, a pauper known only as
"Nemo", in London. Nemo has recently died, and the only person
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to identify him is a street-sweeper, a poor homeless boy named
Jo, who lives in a particularly grim and poverty-stricken part
of the city known as Tom-All-Alone's. "Nemo" is Latin for
"nobody.”
Lady Dedlock is also investigating, disguised as her maid,
Mademoiselle Hortense. Lady Dedlock pays Jo to take her to
Nemo's grave. Meanwhile, Tulkinghorn is concerned Lady Dedlock's
secret could threaten the interests of Sir Leicester and watches
her constantly, even enlisting her maid to spy on her. He also
enlists Inspector Bucket to run Jo out of town, to eliminate any
loose ends that might connect Nemo to the Dedlocks.
Esther sees Lady Dedlock at church and talks with her later at
Chesney Wold; though neither woman recognises their connection.
Later, Lady Dedlock does discover that Esther is her child.
However, Esther has become sick; possibly with smallpox, since
it severely disfigures her; after nursing the homeless boy Jo.
Lady Dedlock waits until Esther has recovered before telling her
the truth. Though Esther and Lady Dedlock are happy to be
reunited, Lady Dedlock tells Esther they must never acknowledge
their connection again.
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Upon her recovery, Esther finds that Richard, having failed at
several professions, has disobeyed his guardian and is trying to
push Jarndyce vs. Jarndyce to conclusion in his and Ada's
favour. In the process, Richard loses all his money and declines
in health. He and Ada have secretly married, and Ada is
pregnant. Esther has her own romance when Mr. Woodcourt returns
to England, having survived a shipwreck, and continues to seek
her company despite her disfigurement. Unfortunately, Esther has
already agreed to marry her guardian, John Jarndyce.
Hortense and Tulkinghorn discover the truth about Lady Dedlock's
past. After a confrontation with Tulkinghorn, Lady Dedlock flees
her home, leaving a note apologizing for her conduct.
Tulkinghorn dismisses Hortense, who is no longer of any use to
him. Feeling abandoned and betrayed, Hortense kills Tulkinghorn
and seeks to frame Lady Dedlock for his murder. Sir Leicester,
discovering his lawyer's death and his wife's flight, suffers a
catastrophic stroke, but he manages to communicate that he
forgives his wife and wants her to return.
Inspector Bucket, who has previously investigated several
matters related to Jarndyce vs. Jarndyce, accepts Sir
Leicester's commission to find Lady Dedlock. At first he
suspects Lady Dedlock of the murder but is able to clear her of
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suspicion after discovering Hortense's guilt, and he requests
Esther's help to find her. Lady Dedlock has no way to know of
her husband's forgiveness or that she has been cleared of
suspicion, and she wanders the country in cold weather before
dying at the cemetery of her former lover, Captain Hawdon
(Nemo). Esther and Bucket find her there.
Progress in Jarndyce vs. Jarndyce seems to take a turn for the
better when a later will is found, which revokes all previous
wills and leaves the bulk of the estate to Richard and Ada.
Meanwhile, John Jarndyce cancels his engagement to Esther, who
becomes engaged to Mr Woodcourt. They go to Chancery to find
Richard. On their arrival, they learn that the case of Jarndyce
vs. Jarndyce is finally over, but the costs of litigation have
entirely consumed the estate. Richard collapses, and Mr.
Woodcourt diagnoses him as being in the last stages of
tuberculosis. Richard apologises to John Jarndyce and dies. John
Jarndyce takes in Ada and her child, a boy whom she names
Richard. Esther and Woodcourt marry and live in a Yorkshire
house which Jarndyce gives to them. The couple later raise two
daughters.
Many of the novel's subplots focus on minor characters. One such
subplot is the hard life and happy, though difficult, marriage
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of Caddy Jellyby and Prince Turveydrop. Another plot focuses on
George Rouncewell's rediscovery of his family, and his reunion
with his mother and brother.
The Goodreads top reviewer, Posie Pickett-Park, presented this
167 years later, the result of an unsolicited ARC;
*************************
Goodreads “Topnotch” Observation
This is a very clever book, even if one is blind to Dickens’
humorous insight; primarily because the main issue with it is
exactly the point Dickens is making; it is so long and dragged
out. In that respect, I didn’t like it at all. Reality be
damned; magical reality the bookish diversion.
“Bleak House” is quite the achievement. It's a 900+ page monster made up a thousand different subplots with a large cast of
characters. It also fanned the flames that led to a huge
overhaul of the legal system in England. Buried beneath and
entwined with the many subplots is the case of Jarndyce vs.
Jarndyce; Dickens's parody of the Chancery Court system, because
the case is dragged out over many years.
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I like Dickens, and I can appreciate what “Bleak House” does, but I'm sorry to say I won't be joining the ranks who consider
this their favorite of his. His best work objectively? Maybe.
Who even knows what that means? But definitely not my favorite.
That would be “Great Expectations,” a novel that just rips my heart out and stomps all over it.
I really do understand that this is the whole point, but so many
chapters and events in this book were extended needlessly,
padded out with waffle and meanderings that seemed to have
nothing to do with the novel at large. That's very clever and
all; given that this is a critique of a court system that
extends everything needlessly and gets nothing done; but it's a
bit of a chore to read. It's a shorter book than “Les
Misérables,” “The Count of Monte Cristo,” and “War and Peace,”
but it truly doesn't feel like it.
The characters, too, were not as memorable as many of Dickens
others. Having read it, I can now see why the “Bleak House”
characters are not household names like Miss Havisham or Bill
Sykes. I found them bland in comparison. I also think it was a
mistake to have the simpering "I'm so modest and unintelligent"
Esther Summerson as a narrator, Dickens's only female narrator.
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It's unfortunate because I think Dickens usually excels at first
person narration, but Esther's constant need to reiterate her
modesty and lack of intelligence is frustrating.
If I were rating this book based on how well it achieved what it
set out to do, it would be an easy five stars. If you believe
classics are not there for enjoyment but for self-flagellation,
this is an easy five stars. Dickens successfully wrote a long
and slow book to show how the legal system is so long and slow.
Some of the subplots and character dramas were interesting; many
were not.
I do look forward to seeing more, albeit condensed and edited,
from this promising author. Did I mention how this long and slow
book mimics the court system, which I also abhor; especially at
the appeals level.
Message 28: by Isaac
As usual, your astute comments have kindled some fires. To the
point, I have enjoyed reading many of your reviews and despite
periodic redundancy have recommended same to both of my on-line
friends. Your lengthy, meandering, inconsistent, and tertiary
take on Dickens’ subject was truly clever if not the product of
an instinctive gift. Indeed, books are no place for artistic
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pretensions. I especially appreciate your complete like-
measured-defeat of that Arab phony who posts 7 synopses per day
in ostensible hope of overtaking a competent Brit, through sock
puppets. Thank you.
However, I will now stop reading and recommending your reviews
to my crew as I just don't like your face. It's no doubt my
fault, as many find it quite attractive, and I hope and trust
that this puts minimal dent in your ace GR career as well as
your fine psychological balance.
Cheers.
“The Man Who Loved Children”
By Christina Stead
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“The Man Who Loved Children” by Christina Stead” ; modified public domain.
This revived novel centers on one very strange family which is
dominated by the patriarch. Sam may be the weirdest dad you've
ever encountered. He makes up his own language, and is a self-
important ass who is at war with his wife Henny, a spiteful
wife. The children Sam so loves are the battleground; it
debatable whether his affection for them is real or a concoction
used to compete with Henny. This would be wholly terrible if
they both weren't hilarious as all get out, and undeniably real.
As the family's situation devolves into poverty, debt, and
misery, Louie, the eldest daughter emerges as an artist in the
Leibowitz Concludes
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making; blossoming into a world of literature and creativity
which is largely spurred by her absurd family and her reality.
“The Dying Grass’
By William T Vollmann
Stylized cover of “The Dying Grass”; property of the author.
William T. Vollmann's, 1376 page “The Dying Grass” is an avant
garde novel which precociously exposes the white male plunder of
the Native Americans. It was subsequently expanded to 2094
pages, the extra 718 the restoration of an originally
ostentatious publisher cut, and is now available at ostentatious
prices, and the revised edition includes 87 photos of dead
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horses and small animals, supplied courtesy of the author’s
personal collection.
Thematically, WTV’s new, much awaited, and most avantist of
gardes imaginable, 2,812 page revelation expands upon his timely
assault on the little known white male plunder of Native
Americans, which will be shortly further enhanced with an even
more contemporary follow-up cogent ramble about the little known
white male plunder of the Yellow man, titled “Seen on a Slant,”
ranging from cruel, privileged rickshaw rides, through the
Marshall Plan, through North Korean slave labor, ending for now
in torn Indochina and a well thought, impassioned, and heart
capturing demand that the US leave Viet Nam immediately.
Factually based and researched, purely authorial, and counter-
traditional-publishing bourgeois restraints, his unedited dreams
again provide the evidence that whitey has been a very, very bad
man. Mr. Vollmann, though allegedly white, thereby with presumed
inside knowledge of the matter, and further alleged to be a
graduate of Harvard, righteously disdains all notions of
personal privilege, especially those based on the biases
inherent in all notions of “merit,” as they are white-biased
calculations which are distributed through racist fake news
sources, but is gallantly susceptible to grants issued by any of
the learned species; as is also true of his oncologist wife.
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Borrowing from WTV’s immortal; “Learned professorially granted
university grants are the learned wave of the future” a
regionally based marginalization is chanted from Cambridge, to
Champaign, to the south side of Chicago, where revolutionary
devotees sport red when the Crips aren’t looking. 328 pictures
decorate the novel, courtesy of the Viet Nam Board of Tourism.
“Seen on a Slant”; property of the author.
Get this first edition as a prelude to the future release, of
which you are most welcome to buy, of “Seen on a Slant; Book
Two; the Racist Conspiracy of High Screened Comedy,” and thereby
attain another valuable and investment grade worthy first
edition, which will add approximately 1,500 pages of dream
induced WTV pure unedited, fact-un-checked fact, the obvious
implication of another publisher censorship married to another
Leibowitz Concludes
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publisher attempt to make a profit through partnership with
another writer who has spent three fruitful decades in
attracting a miniscule, but special market. Join the exclusive
set for only an amount likely less than your monthly electric
bill plus shipping.
As a sportive additional attraction, the back of the jacket has
a full color photo of WTV in his wife's clothing, with a hint of
pale lipstick, suitable for framing. If this isn't Nobel
material, those Swedes have to be racist misogynists.
Jacket back; courtesy of Ms. WT Vollmann.
Leibowitz Concludes
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Leibowitz Concludes
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“I Just Happened to be There, That’s All”
By A Face in the Crowd
“I Just Happened to be There, That’s All,” by A Face in the Crowd; property of the author.
A brown girl dreams of being a dancer, but has no talent as
that is viewed by honky producers. Undeterred, she nurtures her
ideas about rhythm and time, about black bodies and black
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music, about what constitutes a tribe, or makes a person truly
free.
Dazzlingly energetic and deeply human, “I Just Happened to be
There, That’s All” is a story about music and stubborn roots,
about how we are shaped by these things and how we can survive
the naysayers. Moving from Raleigh, North Carolina to the
bastions of informed assessment in Manhattan, it is an
exuberant dance to the music of time.
“If the structure is built reasonably well, the only honest
criticism possibly made by one bent toward that disposition is
to say that; ‘It’s confused and I have no idea what it is or
‘intended to be,’ thereby confirming what everyone else already
knew of the bent critic (BC). Continuing from BC’s needed point
of view, their best possible options are threefold;
1) Totally ignore the structure.
2) Incorrecly paraphrase an aspect or aspects of the structure,
criticize their own incorrect paraphrase, the incorrectness
intentional or not (sarcasm), thereby criticizing one’s self.
This procedure generally makes for a good public display, as
most of the public does not take the trouble to personally make
the comparison and thereby notice the mis-statements, and those
Leibowitz Concludes
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who kind-heartedly do refrain from comment, and attribute the
error to an honest mistake or lack of ability.
3) Subject the structure to one’s own biased idea of
‘surrealism.’
The reasonably proficient builder may or may not hear the voices
of his critics, but if she does she takes solace in the
statement; ‘Some don’t like it. Oh well,’ that an appropriate
add-on to anything that came before it, which fully retains or
perhaps enhances the negligible degree of truth which preceded
it.”
But, that’s not what the book is about. Or maybe it is. Depends.
If those kinds of thoughts get your moat bridged, find out even
more for $19.99 plus tax, plus shipping.
Stylized version of artless cover of “Ulysses” by James Joyce; property of the author.
Page 1280
A DAY IN THE LIFE WITH JAMES JOYCE *****
Note; Admittedly, it could have been a while back, but I might
have been given a free hard copy of this book; “The Ocean Over
the Septic Tank,” in return for an honest review. I might have
no financial interest in its sales, unless you click right here,
in which case I’ll get an inconsequential gratuity. Since I’ve
been writing reviews on this site for a year, which all tend to
be five starred ones, I’ve been inundated with free books from
authors and publishers. I’ve got about forty piled up on the
dining room floor and another 800 on my computer. Jeez, I’ll
never catch up. I didn’t know how they got my home or personal
e-mail address until last week when one of them called me. He
started yelling at me. I found out that he paid $15 to my
Goofreads friend who promised him he’d have a five star review
in a week and gave him my personal information, telling him to
just send it directly. Well, I’ll tell you that I straightened
him right out, the guy on the phone that is, and told him I’d do
it next, not wanting to offend my friend, who will remain un-
named.
Page 1281
Anyway, I was a bit fatigued this morning after driving my two
kids to school. They got into their old argument about who is
getting the front seat and all of that. Yes, we still have that
alternating-days system which I mentioned in other reviews, but
Jimmy was sick on Friday, his front seat day, so Michelle sat
there. Michelle insisted that Monday was her day and that it
wasn’t her fault when Jimmy gets sick. So, they both got in the
front seat and wouldn’t budge. I didn’t know what to do, so I
just drove them and hoped that some cop wouldn’t make a big deal
about the seat belt thing. That turned out to be cool, but
halfway there they started jostling for position and Jimmy must
have not been completely better as he hurled all over, including
on Michelle’s dress. I was going to bring them both back home,
but Michelle insisted on going to school saying that she didn’t
want to be stuck in the house with sick barf boy as it might be
catchy, and that “with all the gross shit on the internet,
nobody’s going to give a flying fuck over a little vomit.” It’s
okay. I told her that she could use those kinds of words when
she turned ten, like her boyfriend next door.
So, I dropped her off and drove Jimmy back home. I got him
changed, put him to bed and cleaned up the car, trying not to
puke myself. So, I’m sitting here tired, disgusted, pissed and
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rebellious. Just to show everybody who’s boss I picked up this
other, very fat book. It’ll put those nasty fifteen buck writers
back a while. I also figured that since he’s dead Joyce won’t be
calling me or complaining to the GR librarians. It doesn’t look
new. Damn, the phone’s ringing. Be right back.
That was the goddam school. I’ve got to go bring Michelle back
home. No, they didn’t object to the vomit; at least not the
vomit itself, as least as far as I understand it. It was that my
little angel has been bombarding the neat and fastidious boy who
sits beside her with the big chunks. You know, that kid is such
a wimp. Any real boy would just throw them back at her, but the
sissy is crying. Christ.
I’m outta here. Oh yeah, Ulysses is a great, great book. I’d
like to give it six stars. Great plot, moves right along.
Recommended to anyone over ten years of age with strong arms.
Maybe will update. It’s heavy. Ha ha ha.”
A Fictional Review of an Imaginary Flop
Leibowitz Concludes
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Stylized cover of Italo Calvino’s “If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller”; property of the author.
Beware or don’t. Your choice. This review contains transient,
un-needed spoilers of incomplete nothingness, inclusive of
double negatives, convincing in a mathematically “proven”
positive logic, which totally proceeds to again redundantly
double negate in its squaring; that ostensibly a function of the
squarers penchant and point of view, and also the identical
procedure with which a personally confusing function of another
innate inability of the math freaks to differentiate Laurence
Olivier from “Richard III,” not to complicate that with the
Archie Rice of “The Entertainer,” seemingly played as an old
time talent contemporarily overlooked and even catcalled, and in
pursuit of a living for he and his family, cares, as may be
surfacely discernable, to be unaware of his detractors; the
complication from other viewpoints that they refuse to
understand that Laurence-Richie-Archie does not give a flying
fuck in any perceived posture, even had he chosen to focus on
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the myriad of perceptions available, most openly displayed in a
crude arena, vaingloriously seen as chicly reminiscent of 17th
century British theater, the vocal sound that of a whistle or
squeaking instrument used to express disapproval or a need to be
noticed in a public place, except not in Portland, Oregon where
audiences are so averse to disapproving appearances that no
matter what they see, a standing ovation is offered, that cruel
in its “encouragement” in a sense, as it gave temporary rise to
the Bizarro “literary” genre, practitioners of that soon to be a
financial disaster story.
Much too soon and also prematurely excusing myself politely from
the entertaining and amusing confines of Laurence, Archie,
Portland, and various other imposed errata, I returned to the
stultifying confines of Italo, the programmed subject at hand,
and the tertiary source of this badinage, who was inadequately
posing as an innocent victim of the rampant jocularity.
Unrequested, this book was strongly suggested to me by an income
challenged writer with whom I am awkwardly somewhat familiar
through my brief interlude at the internationally expanding,
stay-at-home-pastime, commonly referred to as Goodreads.
Apparently, it was recommended to me as the result of my
offhand, socially banal and intended to be meaningless comment
regarding her work as “awesome,” which the author didn’t see as
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dismissive and/or disinterested, but rather interpreted or chose
to desperately interpret as excellent. In an act of once removed
kindness, I have purchased this book for $11.99 plus tax and
intend to do an honest review; even if the result is later to be
determined as trolling. I have no financial interest in its
future royalties. Even if sales are commanded on a tablet, I’m
confident that rational people will voluntarily enter purgatory
rather than subject themselves to the hellacious subject and
writing of this book.
Blurring invisible lines, the one called Reader, presumably the
Writer in this case, I perused the establishment’s fashionable
new book section. The book in question was not an official
member of any of the fleeting, various and sundry top ten lists,
and thereby sat in a bin devoid of number; that word applicable
in all five of the Merriam defined possibilities.
It was openly displayed and one could not help but take notice
of it; evidenced by the dirty fingerprints highlighted even in
the most indirect of lights. As a lover of content and words I
was ashamed to admit, even to myself, that it was the bright,
multi-hued cover, depicting a Pollack-like splashing image;
unclear as to whether it was trying to convey rainbow movement
or the regurgitation of last night’s, microwave heated, “Supreme
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Three Meat Great Value Pizza, with sausage, pepperoni, ham,
onions, peppers and undisclosed additives,” either of which
would have first gotten my attention.
The book opened with the self-important, contradictory
exhortation of the “Writer,” whose forward opened with; "Relax.
Concentrate. Dispel every other thought. Let the world around
you fade," which a cynical Reader could easily paraphrase as;
“Pay attention only to me. Let nothing else matter. I am your
life.”
On this day, this Reader sought to temporarily suspend his weary
cynicism. He felt inwardly giddy and sought something new and
different, or the humor provided by that which purported to be
so, despite the patented complimentary blurbs of the po-mo
reviewers only known to the elite. Up until now his repertoire
has been purposely confined to genre duplicative offerings, as
far as he knows. He inwardly smiled at the sheer audacity of the
Writer, paid for the discounted, hardcover novella and brought
it home.
Alas and it’s grinning cousin alack, after 23 pages, our gentle
Reader discovered that his copy has been ruined; ostensibly in
the printing process. It consisted of nothing but the first
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sections of various un-related books, repeated over and over.
This might have been satisfactory for a short story, essay or
poetry slam, but he had paid for and expected a novella. The
Reader thought that this kind of petty annoyance was much too
trite in its inferences and assumed that there must have been
some kind of mistake.
Upon return to the bookshop, he discovered that the volume,
which he thought was written surreptitiously by his GDR
correspondent, inferred but not clearly stated on the glossy
jacket, that it was actually by a different writer known only as
“The Lady Traveler.”
Given the seeming choice between the two, he went for the
Traveler. He is quickly joined by the Other Reader, known as
Valeria. The Reader is annoyed, but not deterred. But, after he
has returned home this copy turns out to be by yet another
writer and contains 23 pages of incompleted stories being
repeated over and over, as does the next, and the next
................... .
Posed with a difficulty, the Writer considered trying to do a
GDR-type of review patterned after the ultimate one done by one
of Goodreads’ highest rated reviewers. The exalted one had
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covered the final Christopher Hitchens’ book, which concerned
God, the devil, right, wrong, death, everlasting life, and all
those things with which we know people have been beating to
death since they learned how to write; never adding much to the
subjects. The reviewer started his review by eruditely giving
his unsolicited views on each of the subjects. In the middle of
the 5,000 word review he was still doing so. His consistency
continued to the very end. Understandably, I was impressed. Not
only had he managed to write a review of a book whose lack of
subject matter can clear out a room more rapidly than a series
of wet farts blown from a black hole, he had done it in kind,
without once making reference to the book reviewed. It’s so
meta, the words float away. This man had done something-nothing
which can never be topped. He is my hero and I can only wonder
why Salon has not stolen him away from the confines of social
networking.
In the adjoining room the Reader thought that he precociously
read and the Writer thought that she childishly anticipated and
wrote. Considerations, soon to be carried away by a windstorm,
now weigh most heavily upon all else as they concerned
themselves with an insoluble, futile, and pointless chicken-or-
egg type of deliberation.
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If he could successfully convey what had previously transpired,
the Reader thought it possible that his review would outdo the
best of the GFR star; if it wasn’t written in invisible ink; or
perhaps if it was.
Reflections on My Keyboard
By William H Gass and Steven Moore
Cover of “Reflections on my Keyboard” by William H Gass and Steven Moore; property of the author.
A work in progress at the time of his demise, and seemingly a
sequel to “My Chair,” taken from miles of notes Gass left when
he died. Steven Moore was posthumously commissioned, that is to
Gass, to finish the work and edit it. The result is a
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pleasurable mix of erudite keyboard musings and rather plain,
though clear keyboard musings upon those musings. Perfect for
your bi-polar Christmas obligation.
“Crap: A Compilation of Interviews” with 48 full color photos
By George Curiouso
Cover of “Crap” by George Curious; property of the author.
The author, a simian with a short-brimmed red hat, who has
written one hit book; that being a low brow crime noir about a
bungling hit man, its value critically consigned to the most
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familiar and ill-mannered dungeons of mere gross entertainment
and duplicative commercialism has compiled the personally
annotated “literary” and psychologically induced interview
reasons for his work on lucrative TV utilizing the transcripts
of same. Prodded along toward detailing his assessment of humbug
authors necessitating carefully chosen words and a falsely
acquired taste, US foreign policy, the US school system, western
conspiracies, terrorism, random shootings, as well as concocting
his un-remembered early feelings about his parents, the author
is simultaneously and cannily stage silent about how the $10,000
per show TV payment was most instrumental in coming up with that
much bullshit, initially almost impromptu, later regurgitated as
needed. The bullshit is preserved for posterity herein and is of
undoubted use to the pretentious farts not a part of his earlier
market base. If you have any intellectual interest in truth,
post-truth, truth relativity, or skillfully managed badinage,
consider this an entertaining primer, likely humorous to first
level flatulents.
40 Anarcho Nulib Conspiracy Theories
by Carl Markson
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1292
“40 Anarcho Nulib Conspiracy Theories” by Karl Markson; property of the author.
Whether you know it or not, the man has you up ahainst the wall.
This reprint of the novel that shook the world one hundred years
ago is as relevant now as it was then, primarily but not only
because the forty allegations remain theories; none having been
proven, further evidence of collusion and obstruction by the
man. This anti-western, anti-capitalism regurgitation cleverly
manages to impart “popular” hatred while also avoiding the
accusation of having used hate words hated by the righteous non-
hating Nulibs. He accomplishes this through directing his hatred
toward the US, UK, and to a lesser extent all countries where
whites still represent more than 50% of the population, and
thereby collectively exert total influence over what their
country does. Not a book to stand on its past laurels of
successful implementation in Russia, China, India and smaller
Leibowitz Concludes
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chasers of the Yankee dollarm, this edition is updated through a
forward written by Raul Castro which goes on to strongly suggest
that for the world’s good the US, UK, and Israel should be
subjected to attack by multi nukes.
The Secrets of the Loved
By Sympathy Seeker
“The Secrets of the Loved” by Sympathy Seeker; property of the author.
If you’d truly like to take your place among the world’s
beautiful people and get gazillions of social media likes,
Sympathy Seeker has researched and identified characteristics of
the truly loved which you can easily adopt. To list them all
Page 1294
here would defeat the purpose of Ms. Seeker’s book, but to give
you an idea of how easy they are to implement, we’ll consider
one. Lovers live alone with periodic returns to their parent’s
house of financial necessity induced by thinking lovely thoughts
rather than doing the claptrap a job requires. That is probably
not what you’re trying to do, and you’ve been encouraged to do
the opposite, especially by your parents. “Wrong” says Sympathy;
“Always think those lovely thoughts. That is what we are here
for. Being independent takes away that attractive vulnerability.
People always fall for the sick, dying mutt lying in a pathetic
lump, while no particular positive feeling is generated through
contact with a healthy, well-kept pure breed. In fact, when
there is any feeling at all, it is likely one of resentment and
a desire to lay in a good hard kick.” Buy this book and learn
how to be a well-loved burden on society.
Crabs in a Bucket
By Art Program
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1295
“Crabs in a Bucket” by Art Program; property of the author.
Crab mentality or crabs in a bucket, barrel, basket, or pot is a
way of thinking best described by the phrase "If I can't have
it, neither can you". The metaphor refers to a pattern of
behaviour noted in crabs when they are trapped in a bucket,
usually the result of being placed there by by a hominid
crabber, with dog in tow, employing the “trickery” and
physicality associated with a trapped door iron cage though the
particulars can range widely from silver coated chain link to
pewter. In any case, the point is that while any one crab could
easily escape by using one or two others as a “ladder,” its
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1296
efforts will always be undermined by the others, pulling said
crab back down, thereby ensuring the group's collective demise
of soon being dinner for the hominid if the dog doesn’t gobble
them first. Commercial interests may briefly postpone the crab’s
self-imposed inevitability.
The too painfully obvious analogy in hominid behaviour is
compellingly claimed to be that members of a group, ersatz or
genuine, will attempt to directly sabotage, if possessed with
the necessary balls, or for those immersed in what passes for
the “science” of psychology, indirectly try to reduce the self-
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confidence of any member who strives to possibly achieve
“success,” insofar as they solipsistically “understand” this
term, beyond the others, out of poorly hidden envy, resentment,
spite, conspiracy, or competitive feelings, to halt their progress.
This book purports to examine one manifestation of this dynamic;
that being the rather simplistic hominid methodologies used to
deny others, utilizing tactics which are only not obvious to
themselves. This book is flaccidly recommended for those not on
the honor roll in grades not exceeding twelve.
Crabs in a Bucket;
the Little Known Goodreads Form
By Art Program
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1298
“Crabs in a Bucket; the Little Known Goodreads Form” by Art Program; property of the author.
This shortly awaited follow-up to Program’s initial “Crabs in a
Bucket” generalistic, and Wikipedia available offering of “Crabs
in a Bucket” successfully provides a micro-niche nuance laced
with specific modus operandi. For the uninitiated, Goodreads is
a compromised-to-useless website, ostensibly established for
readers to exchange thoughts on books, which has, like the way
of all flesh, cyber subset, evolved into a site in which
s***hole writers either straight up pay or worm their way around
through writing crappy reviews or dispensing “witty” thread
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commentary, hawking their wares freely and getting what they
paid for.
Impressing few book purchasers with their sad-ass attempts to
impress, the failed writer denizens of the degraded site take
their last seeming pleasure by collectively hampering one who
has actually registered a few sales, utilizing various
methodologies, all representational of the jealousy endemic to
failures.
Sophisticated techniques, ranging from purposefully chosen
misquotes, out-of-context doxing, slyly indirect innuendo,
useless thieving small publishers, and worst of all, rabid feral
librarian deletion and amending of anything in the corrupt data
base. The “wolfpacks” have also been known to descend en masse,
apparently intending to bluster some denigration, though this
practice has been substantially curtailed due to its tendency to
incompetently backfire.
This book is recommended to all aficionados of obscure attempts
at humorous failure and back-biting.
The Recognitions
By William Gaddis
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1300
Stylized cover, as it were, of “The Recognitions” by William Gaddis; property of the author.
Modern critics admit that they find this book intimidating and
are fearful of criticizing it. It might be noted that upon
release it was criticized by all 38 of the 38 professional
critics who looked at it. The "ideas" contained seem an un-
entertaining re-do of the prior Raymond Chandler, who managed to
make his books very entertaining, and wrote them well, perhaps a
po-mo sin. Below, I have taken some quotes which flabbergasted a
Goodreads reviewer-worshipper, replete with his five stars, and
added a note to each.
“If it is not beautiful for someone, it does not exist.”
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I guess no shit.
“Why do you treat me as they do, as though I were exactly what I
want to be. Why do we treat people that way?”
We can't find anybody else more blameworthy.
“He walked out into the cold morning asking himself this
heretical question: Can you start measuring a minute at any
instant you wish?”
Obviously. Do you need to be told when to start?
“I know you, I know you. You're the only serious person in the
room, aren't you, the only one who understands, and you can
prove it by the fact that you've never finished a single thing
in your life. You're the only well-educated person, because you
never went to college, and you resent education, you resent
social ease, you resent good manners, you resent success, you
resent any kind of success, you resent God, you resent Christ,
you resent thousand-dollar bills, you resent Christmas, by God,
you resent happiness, you resent happiness itself, because none
of that's real. What is real, then? Nothing's real to you that
Page 1302
isn't part of your own past, real life, a swamp of failures, of
social, sexual, financial, personal...spiritual failure. Real
life. You poor bastard. You don't know what real life is, you've
never been near it. All you have is a thousand intellectualized
ideas about life. But life? Have you ever measured yourself
against anything but your own lousy past? Have you ever faced
anything outside yourself? Life! You poor bastard.”
Well okay, but do you think that's a nice thing to say when the
pomo's like you so much?
“Tragedy was foresworn, in ritual denial of the ripe knowledge
that we are drawing away from one another, that we share only
one thing, share the fear of belonging to another, or to others,
or to God; love or money, tender equated in advertising and the
world, where only money is currency, and under dead trees and
brittle ornaments prehensile hands exchange forgeries of what
the heart dare not surrender.”
Don't give me that do good good bullshit.
Facially Imposed Misery Gladly Accepted
By WH Asshead
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1303
“Facially Imposed Misery Gladly Accepted” by WH Asshead; property of the author.
Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words.
Dead End; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.
Space limitations preclude any more extensive book descriptions,
but you might also enjoy these:
1) “Rumpole Has Conspired to Occupy All My Books” by Michael
Wolff
2) “I’ll Second That” by Bob Woodward
Page 1304
3) “One Must be a Genius to Sound This Stupid” by Braaack
Obomber
4) “The Delightful Raspberry” by Ihav Gass
5) “Coming of Age with Phone Sex” by Philip Roth
6) “Candid Camera in the Toilet” by Sol Asch
7) “Terror Twat” by James Baldwin
8) “Buttface, a Memior” by Gertrude Stein
9) “Piss Off” by Henry David Thoreau
10)”One World Equals Russian Federation” by Slick Willy
11)”Helpless Victim Requests Coddling” by Sad Sack
12)”Helpless Victim Demands Compensation” by Sweet Chucky
Palanooked
13)”Anti-US ISIS Finks Control Goodreads” by Andrew Dice Clay
14)”To Find One’s Self One Must First Get Lost” by Mark Leyner
15)”Snags Presented by the GPS Conspiracy” by Mark Leyner
16)”Yes, We Have No Bunanas by Ellen Degenerate
17)”Potumo’s Typeos” by Joseph Campbell
18)”How to Use Every Hate Word in One Book” by Ed Drew
19)”Fellini’s Grotesques Seen in Undecipherable Braille” by
Gorgeous Borges
20)”Night and Day, Ostensibly You Might Be the Two” by Thomas
Pynchon
21)”If There’s an Edge, It Can’t be Round, Stupid” by Max
Tegmark
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22)”Suicide Poetry” by Betty Boop Posthumously
23)”Suicide Poetry” by Sad Sack Longevity
24)”Suicide Poetry” by Mark Et Share
25)”Suicide Poetry” by Rupert Pupkin
26)”Self-Publishing for Dummies” by Rbrt Dnne
27)"My Battles with Post-Crocker Identity Crisis" by Kojak
28)"Martin Amis as a Huge Example of Little Man Syndrome" by
Muggsy Bogues
29)”Every Love Story is a Butt Plug Story” by Cornhole Melnick
III, with a “new” epilogue by BP Konrath
30)”Stand by Your Can” by Trailer Park Tammy
31)”Death of the Novelist and other short stories” by Hollywood
32)”You Don’t Need a Big Nose to Know Who Farted in the
Elevator” by Jonathan Franzen
33)”The Sausage Defectives” by James Baldwin
34)”The Adventures of Katzman and Rabin”
35)“Pinch Me When the Incessantly Terminal Gravity Subsides”
36)“Social Proprieties Analyzed as Deference to the Insistently
Vulgar”
37)“Middle Aged Lolita in Therapy”
38)“The Thinker Assumed the Defecatory Position”
39)“Atlas Stoned in the Defecatory Position”
40)“Frosty’s Refrigerated Survival Trip; for Children of All
Ages”
Page 1306
41)“Youth is Wasted on the Senile”
42)“Remembrances of a Future Long Passed”
43)“The Twenty-Seventh Letter of the Alphabet”
44)“Infinite Scams”
45)“Green; a Short Story Collection in Braille”
46)“Dante Unearthed at the Center”
47)“The Pale Prince Proffers a Preference for the Onanistic
Arts”
48)“Jay Gatsby Ponders Religion and Name Changes”
49)“The Roth All Night Diner”
50)“Ellis in a Dior Rejected Dress”
51)“Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Old Farts Club; A Sequel to ‘The
White Album’”
52)“Magical Mystery Con; a sequel to ‘Norwegian Wood’”
53)“Truman Evokes a Dream and Then Drops It”
54)“Fifty Shades of Dowager Porn”
55)“What Seuss Might Have Said to Rothfuss and Other One Sided
Confrontations”
56)“All About Lilith”
57)“A Bitch in the Crowd”
58)“No Little Shit Indie Critic is an Island”
59)“If Ocular Observation Produced Perfect Vision and Other
Futile Speculations”
60)“A Portrait of the Artist as a Crotchety Codger”
Page 1307
61)“Confusing Anger with Amused Disgust; Beyond Semantics and
Sophistry”
63)“Tender is the Knife”
63)“In Pursuit of J.R.’s Elusive Tertiary Aspects”
64)“thethingysnotworkingright; The Importance of Being
Capitalized, Spaced, and Punctuated”
65)“Absurdity Trying to Hide a Fundamental Lack of Talent”
66)“Less than Affected Dullness”
67)“Futile American Closet Case Cover”
68)“Divergent from Zero”
69)“Dickin’ Jane in Less Than Three Syllables”
70)“Bart’ll Be the Scribbler”
71)“Homer’s: The Oddity”
72)“Look What Happens When You Name Your Boy Joyce”
73)“100 New Recipes for Cannibals”
74)“Monty Still Can’t Get Over It, But Has Learned to Use It For
Personal Advantage; a Sequel to Lemonade”
75)“Mesmerized by the Dark”
76)“Fitty Charades of Abu Guraib”
77)“Remedial Sex Education for ‘Special’ Students”
78)“One Hundred New and Inexpensive Roadkill Recipes for Geeks”
79)“The Six Five People Who Could Not Have Possibly Killed JFK”
80)“Henry Kissinger Differentiates Boring Depression from Joyous
Infinite Wisdom”
Page 1308
81)“A Comprehensive List of People and Animals Alleged to Have
Been Assassinated by the CIA- a Five Volume Set with Updates
Available Annually”
82)“The Truth Finally Revealed #1; Shrimp are Microwavable”
83)“Lyricism in Contemporary Fantasy Literature; an Extremely
Brief Essay”
84)“The Rebellious Deviant and the Outlaw Lobotomist”
85)“Benny P’s U”
86)“The Incredible Lightness of Overcooked Tomatoes”
87)“More Dilettantish Musings from Benny the Dip”
88)“The Truth Finally Revealed #2; The Sabers did IT”
89)“You Wanna See a Real Bomb”
90)“A Tediously Extended Version of a Petite Masked Ball,
Drearily Chronicled Within the Bounds of the Mischaracterized
Non-Framework of Finnegan’s Wake”
91)“They Didn’t Catch IT in the Rye”
92)"100 Morbidly Obese Weirdo Books to Read Before You Die" by
Stephanoupolis P More, with an imaginary and unattributed
forward by WH Gaddis
93)”Stillborn” by Sandor Brandenburg
94)”A Poor Squatter’s Life in Tenesmus” by John Steinbeck
95) “Krapp’s Last Defecatory Squat” by William Beckett
96) “One Day Me Talk Pretty” by William Faulkner
97) “Menopausal Squirts” by Captain Melldrick III
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1309
98) “The Annoted Annotations of Anatoly Antonioni’s ‘Zabriskie
Point,’ containing a brand new annotated backward by Tom
LeClaire,” an absolute must for those stubbornly inclined, if
not linguistically addicted, to the correct and corrected PCP
faux literary pretension inclusive of exclusive annotation-ism,
by Stephen Moore
99) “The Painted Word” by Tom Wolfe
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1310
**38**
Plane Crash
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Picasso’s “Still life with liquer bottle”; public domain.
News – 6-8-22
Stop; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1318
Street Closed; property of the author.
Leibowitz Concludes
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Page 1320
Crime scene, do not cross.
Maine’s Daily Undertaker
“Diggin’ it up since they been layin’ it down.”
June 8, 2022.
War and Rumors of War
Ukraine Explosions Prove Catchy
by Sven Gustafson, No Go Zone, Sweden
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1321
Ukraine blast; property of the author.
Ukraine blast; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.
UKRAINE EXPLODES
Russian air strikes kill hundreds in Kiev as the long term
conflict has once again been escalated, like a ZZZ-ZZ-ZZ, ZZ Top
inspired reprise repete with performer ‘cool’ beard, once
Page 1322
radical, and now sadly standard in it’s pyrotechnically required
deivation of the sway, Hatfield-McCoy mountain engagement,
arguably reduced or enhanced by the largesse attenuated by the
inconsequential award-gatherings applauded by a few bats, the
usual function of the best to ignore, dit-dit-dit overwhelmnance
of an MFA credentialed predisposition toward yet another story
which finds ‘new’ and NYTimes regnizant complaisance in the
‘sophisticated’ nuance almost detailed within, and gloriously
so, even attendant to the release of a prognastic, insofar as
that can and will always be determined by non-participants, as
an overly rude flatulence which momentarily over-rides, in a
wish some would attribute to the failure of being one more
Johnny Rotten, semi confirmed. Of those deigning to grant,
respectful of irreelevant rewards only by a state, or even more
impressive federally credentialed, as may be mistakenly opposed
to the popular and incorrect notion of common which goes on a
required but at the same time bearing all of the ADD inflicted
restraints invariably attendant to 21st century attempts at
discourse, the reported Russian air strikes in historically
vague, yet unble-to-reind-the-totality-of-histoticifally
limited-not-a-disparaging-inductive-inducing-call-for the
‘modern’ relevance presently alligned with a Ukraine
dysfunctional and as financilly untenable as an ass tethered by,
and welcoming of the master’s binding yolk.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1323
These unverified events have exacerbated an unverified
humanitarian crisis in the country, this unverified aspect
primarily due to not enough hospitals to take care of the
wounded. The dead seem more or less settled, dispersed, or
splattered; no matter the precise classification; quiet and un-
complaining. Jealousy understood.
A destroyed building in Kiev, Ukdaine.
The Russian Federation has escalated its battle against the
alliance-shifting factions within the Ukraine, apparently
deciding that attempts to indentify Ukranian supporters is at
best difficult, usually futile, and is much more of an ass pain
than obliterating all of them. It should be noted that these
unconfirmed and unconfirmable reports have been supplied by the
“Stern Gang” faction of the of the rebel seperatists, as
Page 1324
“official” channels continue to be closed to any verifiable act
or statement. “Not tolerated shall be two hundred and counting
dead Jews,” said Yitzhak Shamwitz, Commander of Operations for
the Party Ukranian Independence (PUI). “Never again.”
Vladimir Rasputin claimed no knowledge of the attacks, saying;
“Slept I through the whole allegation spurious. Those PUI Jews
are just trying to world stage sympathy garner. Don’t bother me
without verifiable facts. Until then, it’s just more US based
fake news, that business one in which which Russia has no
current participation as may be easily recognized from the
resurrects of YouTube plants.”
Beleagured US President, Bailey Post Rumpole had been recently
paying lip service to scaling back operations against similar
Russian insurgencies elsewhere in the world, places not
specified, though oil lacking France and Germany have been the
objects of most speculation. Rumpole said; “Scale back or up
what? Postures indicative of anti-US, anti-white, as well as the
absurdity of of stand-on-line-for-everything, anti-capitalist
We have no Ukraine operations, unless the Democrat controlled
deep state has initiated one clandestinely. It’s a goddam swamp
here. Sad. Disgraceful.”
Page 1325
Politically beleagured, as perhaps as un-necessaily, in what one
might down-shift suppose as being in the agenda and standard
cirriculum of those college prof’s similarly attired, that well
within the vague, seemingly conveniently so, innuendo of an
activity, an un-prosecutable financial financial dealing,
Israeli Premier Benjamin Netanyahu, with a s***-zine-deniable
nod to absurdity, who’s a question for the thrown-away-
observant; “Israel will tolerate no further strikes upon
innocent Jews. Response shall be swift,” though he also
proceeded to note, during his bankrupt “Waffle House” breakfast
of waitress-supplied-smiley-pourings on his waffles that there
weren’t any Jews in the Ukraine, they having been unfairly
decimated or otherwise disposed of by ‘underground’ operators
during WWII.
The UK’s Theresa May continued her well-admired posture of not
stepping beyond her bounds. The BS she has been destined to deal
with, and be blamed for is not the Ukraine, but is her
implementation of the Brexit vote, farcically induced, yet in
implementation conveniently now presenting itself as an
historically valid test of personal competence and good tidings,
aimed at aphony lack thereof, quarter-assed, also in the
contemptible half “happy-facedly,” provided Sasquatch smiled by
Page 1326
her political detractors, resplendent in their demonstrated
acumen which makes decision and work totally un-necessary.
Neither “Maine’s Daily Undertaker” nor this writer could verify
the number of civilians killed, but if the air strikes were
real, and if they were in populous Kiev, then the number should
be appalling. “People need to pay attention to the fact that
there is this massive war going on,” said Brittany Brown, who is
one of 3,267 sophomore prodigies identified as being at Loisina
State University (LSU,) Ms. Brown freely gracing this magazine
through valuable free internship. Indeed, her visions are much
worthy of note. “The war in Ukraine appears to be ‘on
autopilot,’ she added, “that perhaps a consequence of drones,
and one that is drawing the United States significantly deeper into an armed conflict without much public debate. The
intensifying bombing campaign undercuts the Rumpole
administration’s intended pivot to not confront threats from
great powers like China and Russia, and away from long
counterinsurgency and counterterrorism campaigns that have been
the Pentagon’s focus since 2001, excepting where there is a
clalculable monetary benefit.”
End of article. Click here to see related topics.
Page 1327
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Wish I could claim surprise. I’ll continue in the interest you
incorrectly see and thereby permit, as your own.
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“Eschaton” aspirant and current middling “Blue Billywig” video
player, Four Star US Army General, Thomas D. Waldheimer, head of himself and one bimbo secretary, whose “antics” have elicited a
few obligatory liasons from the customary ineffectual others at
“large,” in her homebase of “Eastern Europe Desertion” (EED),
said planned cutbacks elsewhere would not affect what the
military was doing in Russia .......... err, Ukraine. “We’ll
maintain our capability and capacity there, whatever that is and
not really necessarilly outside of ‘unpopular’ pomo-fomo blurbs,
as they may be interpreted by their un-discerning adherants, but
inevitably suggestive of a most sincere interest, if not yet
rendered a farce, in which we seek to share our position with
the god displayed through one of five or so incarnations as the
Military-Industrial Complex (MIC). I mean look, there is no
escaping the fact that god kills or tolerates killing, the
latter step-down if he-she heard the psych BS which requires
having a comforting distance, so the bombs Pynchon made a
literary career upon, no oxymoron intended nor rescinded, have
‘real’ relevance when not viewed by the inordinately
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susceptible, inclusionary only in obviously contradictory,
radical chic worship grudgingly granted by MFA’s from f***ing
Iowa or some other remote and out-of-it s***. I mean like, if
you know the parts you know the whole; and if you don’t you
don’t, and then your view is bombed as much as you wish, and say
that you are horrified. Tiresome. No?”
There’s something about this spot which makes me feel like I’m
16 and on holiday in Aruba or the approved segments of Jamaica,
purple Byrd shades totes paid for. Those memories are not
welcomed. Key in for further nebulous updates, this reporter and
Maine’s Daily Undertaker” management committed to truth in
reporting, a market share soon to climb to the top of your
charts, “Wooly Bully,” one of many dancable inspirations thereto
or therof. You don’t believe me, but it’s really not the least
bit personal. Oh, f***ing well. To be misunderstood is such a
compounding burden that I just might deign to oh so sadly
survive. Ciao. Sorry? Sincere? I’ll fill with needless, silly
errata, that incompetent approach designed to shut off the pain.
It works. It really does. You got a better idea? ......... I
wished otherwise, but you don’t. Our loss.
Any unlikely possibility exists on that elusive ledge, the one
which that one no longer seen or denied if minorily seen. It’s
Page 1330
better as a joke. Right? Crying was kind of old school, no
longer something with which a 2022 hipster can deal. No? .....
See the flashes in the black. I do. I still do though I think
that they’re fading out in a blend of sorts; not that I am
averse to blends generally, but am unable to participate in one
in which my dreams are intended as being for the benefit of my
loved other; that a construct, yes a construct, aimed devoid of
target at those who hate or disregard me, that an understanding
I often find a perverse solace in its comforting shade, in which
the other finds the place they want, while I revel in my ability
to provide that, less the parts which are instinctive to her,
always in the hope that she has some tolerance for the spaces
resultantly induced by the lack of a warm mommy. And yet, not
that, just another series of letters in failing search of a
meaning. True, but to think that guarantees the most
unsatisfactory of results. Ephemeral. Ephhemeral. E has the most
life sustaining of traits, nafs as characterized in the ancient
esoteric East, positive traits in the sense that their
imperfection causes the physical, but lacking, existence we all
know and share on this time subservient planet. If I keep
writing putrid crap like this, there is little doubt that my
next step will be doomed to making “poetry” submissions to un-
differentiating on-line zines of the most crude sort. To gather
sympathetic attention, the Ukranian inhabitants and their
Page 1331
spokes-people would do well to invoke the banal sympathhies in
abundance afforded to devotees of “Happy Days’ and mostly the
Fonz, as it is not to either subterfuge of the on or the off, to
which a contented camper lusts. Either are perfect and complete
manifestations of a universal principle imbued with joy in the
comtinuum of continuums which permeate all; the white on and
black off, an imperfect world’s necessary means of indequate
depiction; the calculated in-between the source of non-existence
vis-à-vis proximity to the center.
This infomercial is once again brought to you by your good and
helpful friends at Microsoft. Better living through better
algorithms.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1332
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1333
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1334
Page 1335
**39**
Joe Biden Has a Dream
The Washington Past
Public Service Announcement
June 5, 2022
I have a dream. By now, you all must know that I’m running for
President of the United States in 2020. My dream is that you
will elect me. My qualifications are unmatched and impeccable;
as I have never been accused, much less convicted, of any
felony. I do not need a cognitive test. I know what time it is.
There was also some early rhubarb concerning plagiarism, but
history has since shown that plagiarism is no crime. Later, a
big deal was made of the $200,000 I supposedly received for
making a GOP supportive speech. Nonsense. This is part of the
false news; correct that; false innuendo perpetrated by the
colluding, conservative, competitors contrary to candor. And all
that malarkey about Hunter, Ukraine, Burisma, and China is just
conservative misinformation.
I have a dream. No longer will the cold cash, tax free
corporations and their owners run this nation. My support comes
Page 1336
from you, the people; with a generous two dollars here and
there. I am not beholden to any fat cat, never have been, and
never will be.
I have a dream. Join with me today in what will go down in
history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history
of our nation. Under me, the federal government will reach the
maximum level of transparency. No more covert deals. No more
secrecy. Excepting no more than 1% classified as the highest
security, we will release all documents to the public as soon as
they are created. Further we will release to the public all old
documents previously withheld under the guise of national
security. FBI, CIA, Deepstate, Military Intelligence, whatever.
I have a dream. The good Mexicans, Haitians, Muslims, and
Canadians desiring to come here and make this country great
again will no longer have any impediment put before them.
Boundaries are ridiculous constructs which benefit only the
elite tricksters. We will once again be America, and welcome all
refugees and migrants gracing our doors; convictions in kangaroo
courts disregarded. They will vote, regardless of any archaic
notions of citizenship. Yes, vote. And be entitled to all Social
Service benefits accruing to those who happened to be born in
this now ridiculously nationalistic state. My fellow Mexicans,
Page 1337
you have my clear word that you can continue to use your local
Social Services center when needed with no fear of being
reported to the authorities. The law will continue penalizing
them with fines and jail time if they leave your kids un-
attended.
I have a dream. The meta manacles of slavery and disrespect will
once and for all, be totally removed from the backs of all
minorities residing in America; whether they be black, brown,
red, yellow, green, women, or LBG&TQ. Yes, this is what I and we
Dems bravely stand for, in the face of constant media delivered
assaults upon our very magnaminity, as if that was some sort of
weakness.
I have a dream. I have come to this nation’s capital to cash a
check; our check. And cash it I will.
I have a dream. In this hopeful year of 2023, I am 81 young and
healthy years of age, and will be 82 by the time of the next
2024 election. Don’t be fooled by my mean spirited detractors.
Senility, Alzheimer’s, dementia, and senior childishness are no
part of this package. I have survived. We have survived, as now
there is only one year remaining to this backward, corrupt
Rumpole regime. Seven eighths, eighty-seven point five percent
Page 1338
of the cruel farce is done, and we have survived. Indeed, what
my detrartors are trying to distract you from are my
accomplishments; 48 years in the Senate, only ended through my
Vice Presidency under our un-criticizable, first black President
Barack Obama. Don’t read the hate blogs about me. Don’t even
believe me. Check my voting record. It’s a long one and you’ll
like what you find.
I have a dream. No longer will our foreign friends have to worry
over the possibility of restreint being imposed upon them by the
Rumpole supported facists in charge of Russia. We will give all
funds and troops necessary to NATO to make sure that they retain
their right to be as surly and un-disciplined as they were
before this authoritarian Rumpole regime came out of the depths
of foul, dirty, and crooked New York City. Freedom to be rude
shall soon be restored to our friends in Europe.
I have a dream. I refuse to believe that the Bank of Justice is
bankrupt. If you want to get technical about it, maybe the Bank
of America and Wells Fargo, but not the Bank of Justice.
I have a dream. And that is something that I must say to my
people who stand on the worn threshold which leads into the
palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place
Page 1339
we must not he guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not "seek to
satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bile
and hatred.” We must forever conduct our struggle on the high
plane of dignity and dicipline. We must not allow our creative
protests to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again
we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force
with righteous soul force.
I have a dream. I am not unmindful that some of you have come
here out of great trials and tribulation. Some of you have come
fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have oome from areas
where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of
persecution and the weapons of evangelical zealots. I say this
is no more.
I have a dream. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I
say to you today, my friends, even though we face the
difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is
a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that
one day this nation will rise up, live out the true meaning of
its creed; “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all
men are created equal. What they do after that is the primary
source of unwanted differentiation.”
Page 1340
I have a dream. Even if I can’t get there with you, this
platform will serve as the standard to which all public
officials will be accountable.
I have a dream. We have survived this crooked asshole, and
better days are soon coming. Vote Biden 2024.
Boxing Match
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Lindsay Graham here
with my colleague Spartacus Booker, and we have the big one for
you. The one you’ve all been waiting for. Undefeated James “The
Truth” Watson, WBA heavyweight champ fighting out of Nashville,
Tennesse and Moostfafa Hamhand, undefeated IBF heavyweight champ
fighting out of Fallujah, Iraq. Never thought this would happen.
Spartacus?”
“Right you are Lindsay. Look at that crowd still pouring in. The
promoters must have sold more tickets than there are seats.
Classic fight. Truth is an aggressor and Hamhand excels at the
counter punch, so fast they are called clusters, the first since
Tyson. And Truth has announced that win or lose, this will be
his last fight.”
Page 1341
“Yes, sir. We’re told that Truth has been training like he never
previously did for this one. What we’re going to find out
tonight is if a top notch 36 year old puncher can get through to
a top notch 23 year old defensive specialist. Hamhand hasn’t yet
reached his prime, but this will likely be the biggest fight
that he ever is in. What can one do? My mama used to tell me;
‘The damn thing about life is that you have to do everything
before you know how, as if you wait time passes you by.”
“Don’t sell Moostfafa short. When need be he has demonstrated an
ability to take it to his opponent; like when EU champ, Alain
Marchand tried a non-aggressive strategy, and was gone on cuts
in two. I mean like he was bleeding not only all over those at
ringside, but all the way into the cheap seats.”
“Of course you know that Hamhand has yet to get in the ring with
anyone the WBA has ranked in the top ten. Marchand’s a tomato
can who at 31-15 is just one who people must pass through before
entering the big leagues; boxing’s Mendoza line.”
“Well, you know politics plays its part in the rankings. Truth
has only fought one in the IBF top ten, and had to go to a
decision with Puva Bhadra, while Moostfafa stopped him in four.
Page 1342
That’s the only fighter they have in common, and the result
favors Moostfafa.”
“Well, look. When Truth fought him, Bhadra was an undefeated
young man, and by the time Hamhand got to him, he was a five
time beaten journeyman hanging on for another paycheck. But,
forget that. Of course, we all know that style comes into play.
Truth is 50-0. That’s a lot of contenders he’s dispatched with,
if not all of them. Moostfafa is 18-0, and some pundits say that
his management has done a great job of picking opponents.”
“Lindsay, Lindsay. Hear your own words. ‘Truth is 50-0.’ ......
He’s been around a long time, and his best days ended with that
‘Bonecrusher’ Kyoung fight three years ago. Good God, he almost
lost to undersized Pol Pot after that, some saying he got the
benefit of a home town decision. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not out
to knock a great champion. All due respect given. In his youth I
wouldn’t have been surprised if he made mincemeat of Hamhand
without even training. But, time marches on.”
“Vegas has it at 9-5 Truth. So, the people are putting their
hard earned money on the Truth. There hasn’t been anything the
fans so relate to since Louis - Schmeling.”
Page 1343
“Can’t argue with that, Mr. G. But, it’s Americans doing the
betting and ........ “
“Neither of us know who’s doing the betting.”
“Okay. Fair enough. Could be George Soros for all I know. The
point I was trying to make is that it was 9-5 Hamhand until
Wednesday, when Rumpole tweeted that he was putting his money on
Truth, and Zohar Ben-Yahu followed that by saying that Hamhand
wasn’t any good and that Truth should be in the ring with Yuri
Ben-Mizrahi, Israeli champion. It was then the heavy money came
in on Truth.”
“Yes, Mr. Booker. We’ve only got about two minutes before
Hamhand is scheduled to walk in. Let’s get a little more real
here. You were a great welterweight champ, and I was there the
day you pulled out that 14th round kayo of favored Norm Nixon.
Quite some stuff. Please tell me and our many fans what it was
like for you at moments like this, just before the fight
started.”
“Whew, Lindsay, you brought out a tough one in a limited time.
Nervous is the simple answer, and anyone who doesn’t say that is
a liar. I mean, you’re sitting there and everybody’s in your
Page 1344
face with last minute instructions; your trainer, your manager,
your money men. Even your waterboy keeps shoving a bottle at
you. They’re pals in your corner. But, what you really need to
be doing is to focus on your opponent. Replay all those films of
him you’ve watched in your head. See his preferred tendencies,
so you can anticipate them. But instead you’re nodding ‘yes’
every two seconds at someone who you don’t want to offend, as
they’re true friends meaning well, but each wants to be
acknowledged as being heard and having a part. And they should
know that they did, but they want to hear that approval from
you. A step further down the line, to tell you the truth, I
don’t even remember any of those long walks down to the ring,
except waving hi to the former champs in the audience. And for
me, I was still nervous and kind of blank when the ref was
reading the instructions, because I didn’t know how hard this
guy might hit, and it would be so embarrassing to get put away
with one punch. Then the bell rings and he hits you. You find
out no big thing. You’re still there. But, it dawns on you that
this bastard is trying to hurt you. So, all the nervousness
disappears. The instructions disappear. Even the crowd
disappears. And all you want to do is nail this sumbitch before
he can nail you.”
Page 1345
“Thank you for the inside view, Spartacus. And, here he comes.
He’s the IBF champ, but he’s entering first, in some apparently
pre-negotiated deference to the increased magnitude of the WBA.
The crowd is screaming, the boos mingled with the yays resulting
in a cacophony of indecipherable, ear-splitting noise. Moostfafa
Hamhand is at the center of his entourage, and is making his way
down to the ring. He’s wearing a red robe with gold trimming,
emblazoned with gold lettering, with what we’ve been told is his
name in Sumerian Arabic script. He is surrounded by his crew of
8-9, also jogging attendants, almost in place. He’s punching at
the air. I hope he’s careful enough not to hit one of his
people.”
“Hey, Lindsay. Doesn’t look like there’s much margin for error,
but I’d bet on him handling it. And look at this. Just look at
this. While Moostfafa is waving in his direction, Muhammed Ali
is scratching his nose, with his head down, looking the other
way. And whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. This is a first. Here
comes James “The Truth” Watson and his entourage before Hamhand
has reached the ring to enjoy the cheers while he does his
standard preening. Truth seems stoic and serious. He’s walking
slowly with head to the ground. His robe is deep purple, and
look, just look at this! The back has white letters saying; “I
really care. Don’t you?”
Page 1346
“I’ll tell ya who really cares, Lindsay. Moostfafa. Truth cut
his show off before he could dance around the ring, throwing
more air punches. Hehehe. I can see the mind games starting
before the bell. Truth would say that his early arrival was out
of respect for the title holder, but Truth is probably trying to
piss Moostfafa off, hoping that it will take him out of his best
defensive posture, and come out the aggressor. Moostfafa’s got
to be unaffected and stick with his plan, or he’s going to be
playing right into Truth’s game.”
“Game or not, Truth and his crew continue their measured and
leisurely walk, taking most eyes off the Moostfafa show, them
now fixated on this curious methodical display.”
“This is just great, Lindsay. It’s like Bob Marley. Most all
performers try to be outgoing and get your attention. Not many
can but Bob quietly drew you in. Look, look. Ali’s nose
affliction has apparently subsided, and he’s waving to Truth
with a fist in the air.
“And Truth has responded with his own fist accompanied by a
smile and a two step. What’s going on here, Spartacus?”
Page 1347
“I don’t know man. Politics make strange bedfellows. Looks like
Muslim Ali is favoring the American or has something up his
nose.”
“The theatrics continue. As Truth moves through the ropes,
Moostfafa dances dangerously near still throwing those air
punches. He almost hit Truth’s trainer, Alfie Jacqueman, who
returns the favor with a half-hearted air assault of his own,
pretending to be restrained from further strikes by his buddy,
the manager, Nick Haley. If the fight’s half as good as the
preliminaries, we’re in for a memorable one.”
The over-the-hill crooner, still tuxedoed ring announcer read
out the stuff sold to the vacationing codgers not yet
mathematically fleeced from the loose change they had brought
in. “Are you ready? Are you ready? .............. I say are you
ready?” With each word, either the crowd, those using stimulants
mingled with those yay-booed out, or the pre-recording
increasingly sounds as if it is. 150 decibels impresses the
$99.99 plus tax, premium home viewers if not those in need of a
hearing device ringside. “Yay. Yay. YAAAAAY. Sis boom ba.”
Staccato basss drum likely not thumped by a percussive Krupa
type.
Page 1348
Isaac turns off the sound as the fight starts, as he preferred a
modified solipsistic approach to being swayed by the verbal
commentary. He saw things this way.
Round 1 – Truth walked to the center of the ring and stood there
with his hands at chest level. Moostfafa utilized fancy footwork
to move around, forcing Truth to keep turning to face him.
Moostfafa threw off the first jab, a foot short. He kept doing
that while Truth threw nothing and didn’t have to block
anything. Truth motioned with his hands for Moostfafa to come in
closer; a move usually associated with disrespect or
frustration. Moostfafa surprised Truth and did, throwing a
flurry of 3-4 punches, the last getting through, but an
undamaging, glancing blow to Truth’s forehead, which Truth
countered with a hard overhand right which Moostfafa took on the
gloves, those gloves driven back into his own head. The round
continued in a similar manner. The surprise was that Moostfafa’s
approach took him out of what was traditionally his signature
style, counter punching, while his constant movement emphasized
his youth against Truth’s lesser mobile age, though that was
also his style when he was Moostfafa’s age. Overall a
disappointing round with little action. Isaac didn’t think
anyone won it, so scored it even at 10-10.
Page 1349
Round 2 – Truth came out more aggressively. He chased Moostfafa
around, using his left to paw at him or pull down his gloves and
follow with a hard right. Moostfafa got cornered a few times,
glancingly hit but unhurt, used his rapid counter punching
skills to get the better of the exchanges. Isaac scored another
10-10, the hits favoring Moostfafa, but the aggression favoring
Truth.
Round 3 – Moostfafa contined to fight more like a young Ali than
his prior self. Truth lumbered around like a Foreman, and took
more punches to get in a few power shots which didn’t seem to
phase Moostfafa. 10-9 Moostfafa, a close call.
Round 4 – A repeat of Round 3. To even things out, so to speak,
Isaac scored it 10-9 Truth, this time weighing the power shots
heavier.
Round 5 – Whenever Truth chased Moostfafa enough to get in
close, Moostfafa tied him up after a missed shot, necessitating
countless referee breakups and verbal instructions to fight.
This was beginning to look more like “Dancing with the Stars.”
10-10. Isaac would have preferred 0-0.
Isaac flipped the sound back on and heard;
Page 1350
“I’ll tell you Lindsay. If this keeps going like this people are
going to call it the stinker of the century.”
“So, what’s going on?”
“That’s a good question. I don’t know. Moostfafa is dictating
the pace of the fight by acting out of character. But, he’s not
gaining anything by it because he’s got little ability to score
from a distance.”
“Can’t Truth make some adjustment?”
“Well, he’s been trying. But a puncher can’t do much if his
opponent keeps his distance or ties him up.”
Isaac turned the volume off again.
Round 6 – Instead of merely evading, Moostfafa would start to
evade, then stop short, and engage the off balance Truth in an
exchange, usually getting the better of it. 10-9 Moostfafa.
Round 7 – Moostfafa continued his Round 6 tactics, but this time
Truth pursued more cautiously. He retained his balance, and
Page 1351
while taking a few rib shots, he got in just as many power shots
to Moostfafa’s head. One in particular seemed to glaze
Moostfafa’s eyes over for a second or two, making him desperate
to hold on. 10-9 Truth, a 10-8 possible. Isaac was beginning to
think that he was watching a good tactical fight which would be
loved by rabid boxing fanatics and hated by fans.
Round 8 – Truth intended to continue his cautious pursuit
tactics, but Moostfafa reverted to his “normal” style. He ceased
running, and allowed Truth to get inside, where he effectively
countered. 10-9 Moostfafa. Overall 78-77 Moostfafa.
Round 9 – A continuation of Round 8; this time with Truth going
to the body for some hard shots under Moostfafa’s raised elbows.
10-9 Truth.
Round 10 – Moostfafa came out flailing high and low, getting in
so close that Truth tried to back off to get himself some
punching room. Moostfafa landed a low blow and got a warning
from the referee. When it happened a second time, the ref
temporarily stopped the fight and instructed the official
scorers to deduct a point from Moostfafa. 9-9, utilizing the
point deduction.
Page 1352
Isaac again turned up the sound fot the minute between rounds.
“We got a close one, my friend.”
“I’m so surprised that the ref took a point from Hamhand. They
almost never do that in a championship fight. That could prove
to be the deciding factor.”
“If Truth is up to going the full fifteen.”
“Well, I’m not worried about that, as Hamhand’s slow pace and
the the lack of action isn’t going to tax him all that much. And
he’s not exactly ready to get on ‘AARP Magazine”s mailing list
yet.”
“Hehehe.”
Isaac shut off the sound saying to no one but the Google spies;
“They tax action. They tax non-action. And they tax whatever is
in between.”
Round 11 – If part of Moostfafa’s strategy was to pick things up
after Truth had tired, his execution left something to be
desired as not being able to make him move, left Truth feeling
Page 1353
as good entering the 11th as he did when he was 28. Both
returned to traditional form down the stretch. “Use what got ya
there” is the old saying. Moostfafa continually taunted Truth by
getting close enough to attract a punch, then countered with his
own flurry. The fans were now seeing what they had come to see.
Neither showed any sign of being hurt. 10-10.
Round 12 – Same as round 11. A lot of noise, no real damage to
either, and another 10-10. Overall 116-116.
Round 13 – Truth pranced out to center. Moostfafa engaged him
there, and Truth circled left. Moostfafa was thrown off some as
this made him move right, throwing off his right handed
alignment. Perhaps, concentrating too much on that, Moostfafa
crossed up his footwork, which resulted in a slight stumble.
Truth saw his opportunity, and used his now closer right hand to
lead with a smash on Moostfafa’s unbalanced chin and Moostfafa
went down. On Moostfafa’s way down Truth used the opportunity to
smash his head again with a perfectly legal left. Truth gloated
a second before the referee could push him toward his corner.
Moostfafa was up at the count of five, but his eyes weren’t. The
ref checked him at 8, but let the fight go on, only because it’s
not wise to stop a championship fight. Moostfafa had sufficient
presence of mind to cover his head, in the meantime taking body
Page 1354
shot after body shot when he couldn’t lurch into a holding
position. With his head later more clear, he realized that he
was in serious danger of losing if he held or countered, and
went on the attack only to be nailed with another Truth hard
right. He went down and though he could have gotten right back
up this time, stayed there until the count of 8 when he rose to
be greeted by the sound of the bell. Isaac scored it 10-7 Truth,
fully aware that most pro scorer’s would go 10-8.
Round 14 – Truth appeared to be complacent and/or tired. He made
a few cursory efforts to take Moostfafa’s head off, but failing
that at the expense of a few middling force counters to his own
head, he settled back into an un-natural-for-him defensive
posture which traditionally only marginally detracted from a
judge’s scoring. He took a few small shots, but avoided the
heavy rights, which by round end Moostfafa seemed to be throwing
in un-necessarily abandoned desperation. Isaac scored it 10-10,
fully realizing that some judges might see it as 10-9 Moostfafa.
Round 15 – Truth must either have wanted to go out on a big one,
or he thought that the fight was close enough for him to have to
win the round, though Isaac thought it was the former as he had
it 135-133 Truth. He came out throwing combinations, ending each
with a hard right. Moostfafa slipped them all, and on the third
Page 1355
series nailed Truth with a left-right of his own. Truth was more
embarrassed than hurt, and he went right back to his
combinations, and again wound up taking a Moostfafa left-right
counter. Hamhand, also feeling that he needed a big round to
win, pursued, looking to get in one which might stagger Truth,
but instead, got clocked himself with both ends of a Truth
combo, and then another. Woozy, he rested against the ropes and
used his defensive skills to avoid taking the big one, while
Truth flailed away. Apparently frustrated at not being able to
get to Hamhand’s head, he went low to the body, and one went too
low. The referee stopped the fight after the first and only one,
instructing the scorers to deduct a point from Truth. By the
time he signaled the fight to resume, the final bell sounded.
Isaac thought that Truth had the upper hand prior to the low
blow deduction, so scored it even at 9-9, ending with a final
total of 144-142 in favor of Truth.
Isaac re-engaged the sound.
“Was that what you expected to see, Spartacus?”
“Frankly no, Lindsay. Any expectation is a regurgitation of the
standard previously seen. But, what we have witnessed here
tonight was a series of attempted adjustments, and adjustments
Page 1356
to those adjustments which didn’t initially work well. .......
To some extent that happens with many of the great fights, but
here it was exaggerated.”
“The 15th was what I had expected ......... “
“Yes, yes, Lindsay. I couldn’t agree more. When it came right
down to the end, both went with what got them there. That quick
ref call of the low blow may come to have more significance than
a ref’s call should. When it was on the other side, he warned on
the first, but didn’t point deduct until the second.”
“So, recognizing all of that, who do you think won it? I got
Truth by just a point.”
“I’m with you, Lindsay. In fact, if there prove to be any
differentiations in the close calls, I’ve actually got Truth by
three, allowing some margin for unofficial ‘error.’ Besides, the
tradition is that if you’re going to take the title away from
the incumbent, the burden is on you to clearly do that, at one
time requiring a knock-out.”
“Yeah, Spartacus. But, that’s been eroded in recent years, and
has been complicated to a minimal extent by the newer and lesser
Page 1357
authorities granting championship status. But, truth be told,
the WBA is still it. So, on that level, Moostfafa just didn’t do
it. I mean like irrespective of the close calls, he never put
Truth down, while going down twice himself. Truth is not even
bleeding. Truth doesn’t even have a puffy eye or a need for the
Vaseline anywhere.”
“Lindsay, Lindsay, you take my words away, though also in
recognition of the fact that those are not the same words which
will be issued by the three judges. And the problem for Truth is
that in order to get the big bucks this fight granted, he had to
give away the judges, two of which were as of yet un-discredited
cronies of the IBF-Hamhand camp.”
“Politics as usual?”
“Sort of. Maybe. Not exactly. As is guessed by those who have a
horse in the race. I mean that recently this entire industry has
been unduly influenced, though note that I did not say entirely
controlled, by Don King, and prior to that, by his predecessors.
King’s concern is not in seeing that the best fighter or winner
is champ, but that the one who is most popular with the general
public is. It’s lucrative. And the general public gets what they
want. Duh? So in this particular in context of history, this
Page 1358
fight has been almost close enough to go the way of expected
future moolah, as it is mysteriously calculated and
‘credentialed’ by the King flunkies.”
“Look at them. They’re so different. Truth is in his corner,
kind of laughing at whatever is being said, affable, and at this
point without a concern in the world; while 180 degrees away, in
a space of twenty feet, Moosfafa is nervously prancing, like the
best of pedestrians, while holding up the glove which when
needed evaded him. He’s acting as if he has won, in a sense
greater than bloody loser Rocky’s way of celebrating the dubious
distinction of having gone the distance, Adrian lovingly
confirming his ridiculous, blind, and bleeding posture. Look,
Hamhand is now resorting to pre-fight tactics of no further
consequence, and has been dancing toward the Truth corner, in
what must be either a demonstration of comic book bravado, or a
pragmatic ‘interlude’ designed to sway the judges through a
demonstration of ostensibly being ‘alive,’ insofar as that term
works for the majority of ticket purchasers.”
“Whatever; no insult intended Lindsay, my pal; the history
‘irrelevant’ stuff, the rest of the BS still buried at a level
yet to be reached by the slow moving Khazarian excavators of
what suits their funding master’s purposes, is soon to be
Page 1359
recorded by three judges; the nuances of what may have led to
their determinations, a matter for the prognostications of a few
watchers at the pond, that the substance provisional of a few
follower notes seen by a singularly digited and time worn
accumulation. Bottom line, the ‘official’ books will record the
results ‘officially’ chosen, as if that was some sort of
accurate account of the event. ......... Please pardon me, while
I unsuccessfully try to restrain an inappropriate laugh. .......
Thank you. So look! Truth is registering total disdain for his
opponent, to the point of not even recognizing his supposed
existence, while Hamhand plays right into that construct, by
seeming to seek to be recognized by the Truth camp. ......
Funny, if inferior sadness is not disallowed by the Politically
Correct police. .................... “
“Hate to interrupt your most recent diatribe, champ; but the
bell is ringing and we’re apparently in store for the
announcement. Let’s go down to our colleague, Borneo
Minutemanshai at ringside. Take it, Borneo.”
“The bells are ringing, so let me turn it over to the ring
announcer, who seems to be claiming to have something momentous
to say.”
Page 1360
Cheers and boos intersperse this announcement at various times
with varying intensities. “Ladies and gentleman, we have a split
decision. Judge Brett Kavanaugh has it 147 James (The Truth)
Watson, and 139 Moostfafa Hamhand, decision Truth. Judge Ichmael
Beydoun has it 143 Hamhand and 142 Watson, decision Hamhand.
Judge Bethany Begin has it 145 for Truth, and 146 for the winner
and new WBA heavyweight champion, Moostfafa Hamhand.
“Borneo Minutemanshai at ringside here again. I’m here with a
grinning and curiously subdued James, the Truth, Watson. Champ,
champ. They’re already saying that the judges stole your title.
What do you say?”
“Look, I’m not going to get into that. I trust that they called
it as they saw it. Besides, if my dad was here I know just what
he’d say; ‘If you were that good you would have knocked him out.
Then you wouldn’t have to worry about judges.’”
“Rematch?”
“No. I said no before the fight and I meant it. I’m getting out
before I get my head scrambled. You know if you keep on hanging
on too long, that’s exactly what will happen. I have other
Page 1361
interests and thanks to boxing I can now pursue them for the
rest of my days.”
“This loss sullies your record.”
“Well, come on. 50-1 or 51-0. Either is pretty good, if I do say
so myself. This is as close to a criticism as you’ll get me to
make. True fans of the game can look at the films of this one,
and make up their own minds if I was undefeated or not. It’ll be
on YouTube forever. That’s not any whine. A split decision means
some expert thought I won.”
“Will Hamhand be a great champ?”
“He’s got a lot of skills and time will tell.”
“No chance for a comeback? Everyone else has.”
“Nothing is impossible, but I sincerely hope not. Look, with
every day that passes Moostfafa is going to be getting better,
and I’m going to be getting worse.”
Page 1362
Truth’s wife, Bonnie bounded into camera view, and led with;
“You really fucked that up in the 15th. You had it. All you had
to do was hold and dance. What were you thinking?”
Truth looked to the interviewer and said; “Everybody’s a critic
these days. But, she’s right you know. I just wanted to go out
with a final bang, when I probably didn’t need that for a win.
....... Shut up, Bonnie. .......... Well, at least tone down.
Hey Borneo. Thanks for the interest. Be good.”
Truth left with Bonnie nodding the “Yes, yes. I know” routine to
complement her 15th round assault. It was a marriage made in the
heaven no one had yet seen.
“There goes a great champ. Back to you two, Lindsay and
Spartacus.”
“After a slow start, the fans got their money’s worth. I’ll let
you have the last word, Spartacus.”
“The champ is dead. Long live the champ.”
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1363
**40**
Intended Article
“Homep Topen Road”; property of the author.
After a work day of which continuously required surface
“tolerance,” also known as going on neutral which is actually
much more taxing than the words could suggest, from the entirety
of nine to five, of Merrillee’s harangueing, centered around how
his latest rejection was written in non-compliance with the
policy established by page of Book 1, pages of Book 2, and
rumored to be coming as part of revised Book 3, while on a more
elemental level it was within shards of full agreement with what
Page 1364
Fitz had strongly hinted at, Isaac was sufficiently pissed to
bravely take it out on his acquiescent keyboard and moreso, the
unobservant dolts who will soon receive its output. “F***ing
Merrillee with her f***ing manuals, and she didn’t even write
the bullshit, just maintains one of them like a fucking child
abusing priest. Fuckety, fuck, fuck, fuck, fock. Ugly bitch too.
Must give Fitz some really good head to get away with being an
otherwise useless pain in the fucking ass. ........ Shit.”
Isaac typed, having put it off for far too long, now very
very very in the mood, intending to send the results to each of
the top ten circulating zines in the US.
“Dear Mr. Publisher;
In the tradition of great, enduring, ancient language, it is the
writer’s intent to write this backwards. The conclusion is here
first for a good reason. The writer has estimated that 98% of
you, that a number chosen to err on the low side, will stop
reading if a few of the knee jerk, alarm triggering words, like
Zionism or Israel appears first. The simple in principle, though
subjected to a contradictory Merriam word incapacitated
difficulty, exacerbated by a self-survivalist penchant to avoid
any set of words, numbers, or combination thereof which might
Page 1365
produce an aneurism, is plainly that what we currently are
prevented from referring to as Israel as a detriment to true
Jews and to the world. True or not, as long as that entity
falsely acts as a Jewish, whatever that is, incorrectly operated
state, as opposed to one which represents not only its current
inhabitants with the ‘proper’ religion, but also as well as
those unfairly deported, sequestered, discouraged, and killed,
the question of 21st century immigration deferred to a more
encompassing study; one which focuses more on the point of view
of the native citizens than the immigrants, in this case the
preponderance of them immigrating Jews. The methodology herein
employed is to state accepted ‘facts’ as facts, to state areas
of dispute or unknown as such, and to fill in the gaps with a
speculation consistent with both reverse engineering, i.e. ‘What
monstrosity might have produced this?’ and an inordinate level
of momentary and thereby criticizably fleeting level of vino
consumption.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1366
Page 1367
Well. Let me attempt to ring your chimes. Folks, you may have
noticed that for more than the last half century, the worlds’
and the Jews’ worst problems have consistently had something in
common; unrest in the Middle East which also includes the
embattled and SECULARLY decreed state of Israel, here and there
flip-flopping, though mostly flopping as a religious thing.
And it is not the fault of the true Jews. Please allow me to
emphasize that it is not the fault of the true Jews. Farshteyn?
You do farshteyn, but find it most convenient to appear as if
you don’t, and say that this idea is anti-Semitic, though you
mean to say anti-Jew, which it is not. Anti-Zionism, especially
as that term is confused with anti-Israel, does not equal anti-
Jew. No matter, no present relevance, anyway. However, one must
historically note that the true Jews have been used as
sacrificial pawns en masse, that atrocity merely regarded as the
required modus operandi by those terroristic creatures armed
with teeth of bullets and bombs, and whose actions would
eventually serve as a ‘reason’ for what was left of the true
Jews to occupy and give credence to the land which the “false”
and Khazarian descended tribe, or more exactly, and all so
convenient for mass confusion, tribes, to govern and ally with
the US to be a state-of-the-art-militarily-equipped world power.
Page 1368
If there is any present relevance to this communication, it is
in that which suggests that a slight variation on the same
‘successful’ WWII game is currently being played by the Khazar
descendents at the peril of the descendants of the true Jews
which Israel has sent to the Ukraine, at the risk of WW III. The
specifics of the Khazar-Jewish-conversion-disapearance-Irgun-
Lehi-Herut-Likud name changes are quite involved, yet can be
provided in a medium accepting of a much longer story, primarily
because the recognized experts on the subject have exascerbated
the difficulty through breaking it down into more than a score
of sub-sections, to which their shifting conclusions cannot
agree, despite their current methodologies which they, in a
display of self-congratulation, hilariously and audaciously term
‘advanced,’ despite having had to historically wind their
‘merotorious’ way through seemingly continuous, bi-decadial
revisions, each ‘new’ fallacy, one to be finessed through
another ‘enhancement’ aided by another machine which will
shortly be outmoded.
In an appeal to the most common of senses, the protagonist of
such a confused scenario, would have to admit that his
hypothesis would not hold water in a court with a bar of ‘beyond
a reasonable doubt,’ but would have a shot in one which makes
Page 1369
their determination based on ‘the preponderance of the
evidence.’
It would be much too self-congratulatory to for me to say that I
‘dicovered’ this myself, as I didn’t. At first I thought so, but
then disvcovered that my findings were entirely consistent with
the learned findings of the Naturei Karta, a 5,000 member strong
subset of Orthodox Jewry, and not an insignificant number when
one takes into account how much anyone knows of circumstances
which truly have sonme significance, while simultaneously
addicted to the myriad of ‘sexy’ affairs, as has been
consistently displayed through a popular fascination with the
Kardashians; prime time and all over the airwaves; while the
Naturei Karta and their adherents get their thoughts deleted
from much less visited, yet heavily censored net sites with even
less relevance than the daily banal ads found on the likes of
FaceBook and their worshipper wannabees. The bottom line is that
the deletions of the most often retarded, but extremely popular
broadcasts by the Tubby Jones’s of the world, serve as a
distraction from the deletions of the message of the Naturei
Karta, which is anathema to every known power that be. This
dynamic has always been the case in prime time media, but has
seemingly now become a phenomenon in lesser sources of
entertainment-news. The trend is that which suggests that they
Page 1370
will soon be at the level of personal communication, which you
currently still find comfy and safe.
Why isn’t the point of view of the Naturei Karta given the media
time, prime or inferior, of the ‘racially’ discriminated against
Muslim woman who lost an entire half hour of her life, by being
required to go through US airport security, not once, but twice.
............. This is useless, and if acknowledged will be
bombarded from all directions including those with no point of
view or knowledge as having something wrong with it, when the
writer is just trying to say, in a situation which has done
everything it can to make that impossible, that you people might
do well to use your own good common sense when evaluating
information, and definitely not accept the changing, double-
talking word of ‘disagreeing’ experts.’ ..................... Is
an ‘evaluate and search’ redundant? Or, will that take too much
time away from the ‘fun’ gathered through watching the speedy
‘Flash?’ Don’t bother to answer. Your actions have already done
that for you.
In tricky continuance of a preceding paragraph, as it may have
now been revised, censored, or become another victim of
substitution, it is that the current state of Israel was founded
and is still controlled by descendants of the false Jews-Khazars
Page 1371
through various incarnations such as Irgun, The Lehi Group
(A/K/A The Stern Gang), Herut, and Likud. To facilitate this
land grab the Khazars, under changing titles, assisted in the
sacrifice of true Jews during WWII, in order to unfairly gain
world sympathetic approval for their own non-sacrificial ‘tie’
to those sacrificed, which culminated in the choiceless
relocation of many of the survivors to their Israel. This is not
to say that current Israel should be demolished. It is to say
that for the benefit of true Jews and indeed, the world it would
be preferable to recognize this entity as the manifestation of a
secular 1948 UN decree, and not the Israel promised to the
original and true Jews/Israelites by the God of the religion
based Old Testament.
As a matter of simple practicality, this secular Israel would be
of infinitely more benefit to true Jews and the world if it was
not operated as a ‘Jewish’ state; that to be yet established by
the tardy messiah. In further substantiation of this theory, the
writer can truly claim well researched and complete agreement
from an overlooked, derided, and deleted segment of the Hasidic
community, alleged to number as many as 5,000. It isapparently
not conducive to anyone’s business interest to allow the posting
of a minority Jewish opinion that Israel should be operated as a
non-religiously based state, thereby accepting Palestinians and
Page 1372
Arabs as full fledged citizens. (SLOPPY. DUPLICATIVE. INTEGRATE
OR ELIMINATE PARAGRAPH.)
To say that some of the Khazars abandoned Paganism to adopt
Judaism around the 8th century and migrated to Europe in the
11th, is NOT the same thing as saying that the Biblical God's
prior promise of a homeland to the earlier Jews of Palestine is
false. THEY ARE TWO DIFFERENT EVENTS AND THOUGHTS. Each can be
true or false with no effect upon the other. In addition, it is
not very likely, according to consensus geneticists, for
whatever that is worth. But, in practical terms, as opposed to
theoretical, they do have another effect upon each other; that
in how they are mass misinterpretd; and is possibly a tertiary
key to an extremely-well-constructed false flag operation. You
might call it a ‘conspiracy theory,’ and you might be right
insofar as conspiracy exists on a spectrum with fact at the
other end, these particulars in my judgement, sufficient to put
the ball back in fact’s court. But, wherever its rightful place,
it is not a story covered by any of the numerous and growing
conspiracy theorist brigade. Of course not. It’s a bit more
dangerous than postulating about aliens landing in Roswell, New
Mexico in 1947 and programmed killers trained in the MK-ULTRA
‘program;’ and it could actually do some good if widely known.
Page 1373
(ELIMINATE MOST OR ALL. LEAN REJECT. TOO ’NUTTY’ FOR EVEN THE
LIKES OF THE ALIEN ABDUCTION AND RULING REPTILIAN BELEIVERS.)
One problem is that individual aspects have been studied and
studied, providing a wealth of information which is far from
being consistent. Yet, despite the interest gathered by the
minutiae, no one in possession of a scientific ‘credential’ has
attempted to piece together the bigger picture; until Arthur
Koestler tried after having obtained the ‘status’ of a best-
selling writer. Whether or not to recognize that the supposed
mass Khazar migration is pro-Jewish, pro-Israel, or pro-Zionism
became confused through the publication of Koestler’s 1976 book,
“The Thirteenth Tribe,” the first one receiving any attention at
all. Koestler said, I believe mistakenly, that ‘Ashkenazi Jews
were descendants of the Khazars,’ and proceeded to be criticized
from all directions, but mostly ignored, for being anti
everything Jewish-related. It might have been fairer to simply
say that he was wrong. (BEGINNING A PROBLEM.)
That probably sounds silly to you; a play on words, a mixed
metaphor, a mis-statement, a mis-understanding, a simplification
of a complex issue, or a myriad of other possible errors. It is
not. Consider. What if it is an accurate assessment? What if
Occam’s simple razor is again correct? What if we projected that
Page 1374
possibility back in time, at least as far as the spell of
Hitler? What if both Koestler and the current Israeli government
are both wrong in substance, but each partially right in
particularized detail, no political pun intended? What if there
are ‘True Jews’ who had been promised a homeland by God well
before the 8th or 11th centuries? And what if there are good
poseurs? And what if the poseurs helped sacrifice the true Jews
for their own gain? I’m getting well ahead of myself, though
this subject makes it difficult not to, and would like to take a
song break.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1375
Abraham, Desolate Highway and portions of “Highway 61 Revisited” by Bob Dylan; property of the
author, the latter under both the “fair use” and “transformative” doctrines.
The ‘facts’ of this case, most still buried in time, are open to
question for varying reasons and have varying inferred
Page 1376
probabilities of being totally correct or wrongful; the degree
entirely dependent upon who you have not read and thereby chosen
to believe. Yet this is all we have to work with, and with the
inevitable doctoring of specifics, that will likely always be
the case. However, there is only one story which can be
consistent with all of these ‘facts,’ without negating any of
them in entirety. The First Original Jews, today’s ‘True Torah
Jews’ believe that in BC days their God promised them a homeland
sometime in the future. That is a religious thought, though that
doesn’t disqualify it in the modern belief that everyone is
entitled to a home. The aforementioned ‘Jews’ is a reference to
religion, and not a race. Conventional wisdom has it that their
race was probably mixed. Further conventional wisdom suggests
that the Khazars were the fierce and prosperous inhabitants of
an ancient area called Khazaria. They were Pagans until having
adopted Judaism in the 8th century under the command of a king,
and not necessarily adopted by all. That seems an overly obvious
overstatement as the Khazars were members of separate semi-
nomadic tribes. It does not seem likely to assume that they all
adopted a new faith, just because the land’s King said that they
should, any more than it is believable that the 2019 US adopted
conservatism, just because Rumpole said they should. By all
accounts, for whatever that adds to the argument, the Khazars
disappeared during the 11th century of their own account, and by
Page 1377
others the result of being over-run by the Russians. In any
event no one knows where they went, and for this story that is
irrelevant, as their 1940’s reappearance in Palestine is what is
of most significance to the world. (HARD TO CUT, BUT LENGTHENS
LETTER FOR ADD’S.)
The only possible absolute refutation of this 8th century Pagan
conversion to Judaism requires saying that the land of Khazaria
became entirely occupied by the original Jews; that further
supposing that it was empty before they arrived, and is
suggestive of a ‘conversion’ to what already existed. This
doesn’t meet any intuitive logic as this also requires one to
say that they collectively became Pagans on their way there,
again an error of 100% generalization. This is common among
academic historians who seek to know little of the people, and
overwhelmingly assume their reactions bear some relationship to
what the powers-that-be dictate. (OUT. TOTALLY META, AND LIKELY
TO OPEN UNPRODUCTIVE QUESTIONS AND OPINIONS TOTALLY IRRELEVANT
TO THE MAIN ISSUE.)
The Khazar “Jews” next appear in 1940’s Palestine. They called
themselves Irgun, which evolved to the Lehi Group, which evolved
to or was synonymous with the Stern Gang, which evolved to
Herut, which evolved to Likud ....... , which evolved to Prime
Page 1378
Minister, members of the Knesset, (Like US Congress) and control
of Mossad, (Like US CIA.) As management level members of Israeli
and world condemned terrorist organizations, that condemnation
later officially refuted by the Khazar-descended Israeli
government, then rewarded by same, Irgun-Lehi, et al, Menachem
Begin and Yitzhack Shamir, were participnts in and planners of
history’s first known terrorist attacks, that against the
Palestinians in a non-war situation. The Lehi Group offered
their services to both Mussolini and Hitler, long after it was
known what was being done to European Jews. Letters confirming
those offers exist, while the type of ‘help’ performed seems
much too conveniently undocumented. At war’s end European Jews
were welcomed to Palestine, soon to become known as Israel. How
many choices did these broken people have, even if aware of
their having been used in the nation grabbing intent of their
overseas ‘benefactors?’ (DEFINITELY KEEP FASCIST ALIGNMENT.)
Israel was to become a state of the US in the eyes of the world,
though an Israeli would be insulted to hear that and stress
their independence. Whatever the semantics, they have the full
support of the US military and have been granted much US
military equipment. One can debate, but not totally dismiss most
of the ‘facts.’ Not that some of the events are in doubt, but
because they can be misleading without a lengthy context. Or
Page 1379
they may stand alone. What seems inescapable is that the Khazars
disappeared in the 11th century. If that doesn’t strike you as
odd, consider that the dinosaurs disappeared long before that,
but their tracks and bones have been found. It appears logical
to think that these adept businessmen and warriors did not want
to be found, and made a concerted effort to remain in the
shadows. Accounts now exist of their having migrated to Europe,
but DNA tests do not bear that out. Further, the accounts
presenting information are at total odds with other accounts
which say that nothing was known of them until archeological
diggings which commenced only fifty years ago, and are a century
from completion. The diggings go on. That these tribes were
pagan until adopting Judaism in the 8th century has some merit,
insofar as one can make generalizations about 26 diverse tribes,
due to coinage excavated. That they are not the original Jews of
Covenant days seems virtually certain.
Utilizing the unappreciated difference between Jewish as a
religion and Jewish as an ethnicity, I find it distinctly
possible, given the ‘facts’ and considering the alternative
viewpoints, that the warlike Khazars resurfaced as supposed
original Jews in the Palestine of the 1930’s and using the
peaceful true Jews as sacrificial lambs, made a land grab which
has proven uncontestable, because of rightful world sympathies
Page 1380
for the true Jews sacrificed, disagreeing ‘specialists’ in
various aspects of the issue at the expense of one with an
overview, as well as the complications presented by incomplete
information in regard to ‘facts,’ too much information in regard
to ‘expert’ assessments, and the confusion inherent in the
contradictory definitions of relevant words. Indeed, in most
circles, to merely use the word Khazar is the same as announcing
that one is ant-Jewish. Witness the treatment of Arthur
Koestler, which complicates the point because he was wrong, but
well intended. The denied logical interpretation should be taken
as pro-Jewish and anti-Khazar.
What good would it do to recognize that in 2019? Religion might
have some use for this theory, but on a secular basis it doesn’t
matter much until you see that Israeli dictated actions of the
second decade of the 21st century fit a similar pattern and pose
the same risks. The Israeli leadership has no compunctions about
risking another world war and the lives of Jews to re-take part
of the Ukraine, and has already started to stock it with
‘fighters,’ US weapons, and the US has provide ‘advisors, ‘ just
as they did in the days of Viet Nam.
This is getting personally confusing. For my part, I’m much too
tired to further pursue these ghosts. I’d just like to add that
Page 1381
I’m certain that most of you will say; ‘I already knew that. So
what?’ You always do. Rather than try to answer a question which
takes volumes, I would just turn around the question by asking;
‘If there wasn’t some game going on, why are these peaceful
people continually at war or the victims of it?’
Please consider this another un-credentialed article submitted
for your kind consideration. If not acceptable as the glorious
article, please consider it as a letter to the editor. If
neither, a very sincere f*** you, too is extended.’
It goes without saying that you have my unrequired permission to
extrapolate from, misquote, censor, amend, selectively
misreport, or totally ignore this intended essay-letter. It’s
your s***ty zine and it’s sort of expected, longstanding,
standard operating procedure. Isn’t it? What matters to you is
your market share, as your flunkies calculate that through
phony, one-issue polls, with its attendant, advertiser provided
bottom line; and what matters to me is that I almost did my
infinitesimal, inconsequential part, that the amount you have
taught me time and again as being what is to be allowed by you
mainstreamed ‘winners.’ Oh, yeah, so, smiley face, have a nice
day, and if I’ve been remiss in not having previously stated it;
‘F*** you all the way up. Burn.’
Page 1382
Cordially,
Isaac Leibowitz”
Liking certain aspects of this intended communication, but
not others, especially as it seemed to induce a personally un-
desired reaction from a reader, and with a mind directed toward
ersatz necessarily, in a dismissed portent of self-importance,
toward the ‘easy’part of making a complicated, lengthy story
succinct Isaac was too tired to add to it, delete from it, or
edit it on this evening of the day of tiresome Merrillee. So, he
turned in, lost in the entertainment provided by the over-
dubbing words, semi-expectant of fixing the inadequacies
contained in his own, likely ignored, exhibition, in the
irrelevance of a dreamed tomorrow, likely never to come, thereby
seemingly faulted or not, a function of Catholicism, through its
partial repetition of the comforting past, though not yet
anywhere near as confused as a semi-competent skimmer, primarily
motivated by their appearance, as it is judged by their dollar
dispensing god, might conclude.
In this pictorial simplicity, Isaac once again entered the
soothing land bi-sected by the river Styxx; totally relaxed
despite his uninterested recognition of old-time issues of
Page 1383
‘significance’ to the damaged lame, the possible fodder of a
banal recapitulation of the recapitulantly challenged Moore,
that non-issue today again gone and tomorrow a museum quality
abstraction in requirement of a tedious history lesson, which
his redundant anti-muse, Gadddis might have clumsily intended,
but probably was totally unaware of; not recognizing that “Piss
Christ” was drought-suggestant needy of a refill. Warm again
now, matters once again soothing, simple, and amusing, Isaac
happily slept like a rock.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1384
**41**
Shock and Awe
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1385
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1386
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1387
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1388
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1389
Stylized War Pigs and “War Pigs” written by Ozzy Osbourne, Terence Michael Butler, William T
Ward, and F FrankIommi; property of the author, the latter under both the “fair use” and
“transformative” doctrines.
Isaac contentedly stayed under his blankets. He was in no
rush to emerge as it was still early, he had his work situation
well in hand, and he would soon have the credentials to return
home and be considered for top level Washington State commercial
banking jobs. “Wouldn’t cranky-ass, old Bill Bogardus just shit
a brick if he had to answer to me?” If that didn’t pan out there
Page 1390
was always the National Bank Examiners (NBX) with the chance for
that top level job postponed in the present, yet further
enhanced in the future. He had completed the most difficult part
of his essay the day prior and was in no rush to finish it off,
and find out where to send it in the “proper” format, attaching
the requisite humble suck-up half-pager. “There must be one
decent obsequious ‘Please consider poor little me’ letter on the
net I can copy,” Isaac thought in minimally discursive absentia.
His family life still had a few, very few, re-adjusting snags
remaining to go through, but that is the nature of families; the
“snags” always overstated by those without one. If he had been
old enough to know more unwritten pop history, he might have
felt even more contented and semi-elated, as the family “snags”
had been raised in direct proportion to the circulation of
“Psychology Today” and the Dr. Phil Nielsen TV ratings, both now
finally in precipitous descent, begging management massage. But
no matter the degree, it is obvious that the family “snags” can
only be completely avoided by becoming a hermit, and Isaac had
no inclination to get baked in grime through the occupation of
an abandoned silver mine in New Mexico. A little reward was in
order today. Just a little dawn lollygagging didn’t seem much to
ask. It was nice, warm, clean, and effortless just where he was.
His dream, in temporary, soon ending abeyance, of Chloe, Mark,
and Abigail back in Gig Harbor was still vivid in his mind.
Page 1391
He recalled last spring’s holdout. It was just before he
left Gig Harbor in his pursuit of the piracy known as Chase
Morgan in the biggest of apples. The maple tree they had made a
family project of planting out front ten years prior was then
foty-one and one half feet tall, and thirty feet wide with empty
branches going in all directions; empty except for one
fluttering red leaf even now holding on. Isaac had wondered how
it managed to pulsate on that still, windless day; as it was
doing virtual cartwheels, while defiantly flaunting its dancing,
ruddy body, in a last celebration before the new green of
another spring chased it to the ground where all his former
friends waited to be dispersed by lawnmowers and the spring sun.
Isaac liked to think that the pirouetting survivor held on and
kept dancing into the new seasons. Thinking of that, he rolled
onto his belly and put his arms under the pillow, hoping to doze
back off; right back to Gig Harbor. It seemed to be only a
matter of seconds before his worst fear materialized. He should
have known, as this was not the first time. He moved around like
that had jarred something in his previously inert, contented
body, as now Isaac felt the annoying urge to get up and go to
the bathroom. He defiantly remained still and put up the
resistance a Ukranian freedom fighter might have admired; the
chosen stasis merely a deferral.
Page 1392
When rising became no longer an issue of if, but when,
Isaac’s good day got off to a shaky start. He was compelled to
look out his western window and saw the vestiges of an
apparently selective fire in the sky. Still groggy on his feet,
he was nonetheless calmly able to conjure up the required
recollection that it was much too early in the day for one of
those pretty, pink sunsets, and the NYC area wasn’t prone to
them anyway. Just to make sure that his inner clock didn’t have
its AM’s reversed with its PM’s he turned on his computer and
found that it was indeed 6AM. He again went to the window and
with clearer eyes saw that parts of downtown Manhattan were in
flames. Isaac used his binoculars to determine that the JP
Morgan Chase building was doing its best to imitate an illegal-
in-NY Roman candle, the penalty of possible significance to one
not in the process of being converted to ashes. He hoped that
good old Fitz wasn’t doing one of his sleep overs. His Mr.
Coffee machine had done its programmed job, and he filled his
cup with black and again went to his laptop trying to find out
what had happened, within the caveat of what had erroneously
been written of it.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1393
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1394
“Old Screw Times”; property of the author.
News - 6-9-22
Old Screw Times - June 9, 2022
Courtesy of Reuters
WAR!
Confirming the worst fears of numerous ersatz pundits, the war
in the Ukraine today spread to the world stage. Bombs exploded
in what appears to have been a measured, tactical strike on Wall
Street, decimating the main office of JP Morgan Chase, The
Blackstone Group, Morgan Stanley, and Houlihan Lokey, as well as
many lesser known firms occupying the area. Unofficial Russian
Page 1395
deep state sources claim full responsibility, as does ISIS in
conformance with their standardized operating procedure,
ostensibly designed to mimic a croaking frog’s claim of
importance during an extended drought, in seeming conformance to
and consistent with their standardized operating procedure,
ostensibly designed to mimic a croaking, dehydrated frog’s
vociferous and gaudy claim of prominence, while sequesterd well
within the confines dictated by a Southwestern, always moisture
challenged, US drought.
US President Bailey Post Rumpole denied any knowledge of the
circumstances surrounding this event or the supposed event
itself, as it had not yet been on TV; but in a conciliatory
offering, attributed it, if later intelligence verified, to the
work of the conspiratorial anti-US Democratic deep state, and
that he was firing that stupid redneck Attorney General for
dereliction of duties. When reminded that he had already done
that, Rumpole said; “Hahaha. Well, well. He must have quit
without filing resignation papers with me. It doesn’t matter as
whatever the cause, we have some nukes, which if need be, can be
laid on them Rooskies make Tunguska look like a Halloween
firecracker; pretty good pun, eh?”
Page 1396
Tel Aviv, Israel got hit by bombs they say were sent their way
by the Russia supporting Ukranian faction, using rockets
supplied by illegal arms dealers in Vladimir Rasputin’s inner
circle, in a suggestion of that being a deviation from official
policy.
Avi Gur, spokesperson for the normally secretive Ukranian
“rebels” said; “Fighting we know. Imposed on us for decades,
it’s been. Beat Russia and pro-Russia Ukranian traitors we can.
From Israel and US no gvad helfn is needed or existent. Meshugas
is claim of flag false.”
London papers report rioting and cries of “insanity” after Prime
Minister Victoria May announced that her government supports
both the US, Israel, Russia, and Brexit revision, the latter as
might be gleaned as an end run on the majority supporters of the
border recognizing departure. Disregarded protestors point out
that the UK has not had a diplomatic relationship with Israel
since 1949, and that this is not the best time to establish one,
Victoria May’s “failure” to satisfactorily implement an un-
required and impossible Brexit document a source of diversionary
internal strife, and no more.
Page 1397
“The Israeli Times” ran an op-ed piece which belittled London’s
protestors as those who are living in the past.
Russia claims that an unspecified “big” border city got bombed
by US rockets launched from the Ukraine, and that ”they hold the
US and Israel, it’s 51st state, responsible.” Vladimir Rasputin
was quoted in “Moscow Today” as saying; “Like dogs, play with
us, they do. News for them we have. In our weapon, hear and feel
it, they will.”
Israel claims to have bombed Iran, and Iran claims to have
bombed Israel, or neither not depending upon the official
assessment of the targeted reader’s limitation, which is much
too over-conveniently attributed to a clandestine in intent if
not well executed point of view drearily consistent with any
biased, advocacy point-of-view which has hit the airwaves since
like 1959; Millennials not a likely source of further
“enlightenment,” insofar as the dearth of non-nulib-anarcho
opinion, in an apparent confession to their being totally devoid
of policy, and thereby logically supports and seeks to be seen
as electably “nice,” one-world, and anti-boundaries, white one,
through anything which corresponds to “I’m against whatever
Rumpole said,” help coming from every “comedic” TV host allowed
in the liberal media, and dependant upon the “funny stuff”
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1398
provided by a staff of uninspired Johnny Paycheck writers,
obligatory laughs, seeming all too obviously so, from the black
band head provided on camera as an un-specific testimony to the
popularity of the SOS, Rumpole now a seemingly easy target, but
not yet competently exploited.
Is this a war or the manifestation of a posthumous Derrida
influence upon difficulties with self, other, and identity?
Whatever, it seems a good bet to say that Jacques is now
laughing his ass off.
Ukranian anti-Russia forces claim 300 casualties from illegal
Russian gas attacks as well as claiming that they neither have
nor need the support of Israeli troops and US and Israeli
weaponry.
War breaks out in the rest of Europe
Soldiers of the Russian army tearing down the border crossing into the Ukraine; June 20, 2022.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1399
Under likely guidance from Russia, its primary supplier of oil
and gas, Germany invaded Poland after having staged several
false flag border incidents as a pretext to initiate the attack.
The United Kingdom responded with an ultimatum to Germany to
cease military operations. This morning, after the ultimatum was
ignored, France, the United Kingdom, Australia, and New Zealand
declared war on Germany. This alliance was joined an hour later
by South Africa and Canada. The alliance provided no direct
military support to Poland, outside of a cautious French probe
into activities in the Saarland. The Western Allies also began a
naval blockade of Germany, which aimed to damage the country's
economy and war capabilities. Germany responded by ordering
submarines, at least sometimes nuclear capable, to be used
against Allied merchant ships, and to the country issuing the
flag.
Soldiers of the Polish Army during the defense of Poland.
Page 1400
After signing a militarily un-necessary cease-fire agreement
with Finland, prompting the happy Finns to be, if possible, even more pro-Russian than previously, the Soviets invaded Belarus
under the pretext that the state had ceased to exist as anything
other than a haven for Islamic terrorists, drawing approval, in
that regard, from US President Bailey Post Rumpole who sought to
dispel the internal US confusion by saying; “As Rasputin said;
‘Bedfellow strange politic make.’”
The “Ukranian government in exile,” whichever that one is today,
ostensibly one not yet convicted of financial fraud, possibly
under the guidance of Fridman, also established an Underground
State and a resistance movement; with a mission statement highlighting their policy of absentia and abstention in regard
to Russian claims to oil off the coast of Ukraine in return for
a 5% fee off the top to be donated to the establishment of a
Jewish state in Crimea. Rasputin avoided or deflected the issue
by saying; “What means Jewish?”
Russia has deployed batteries of nuclear capable ballistic
missiles close to the Ukrainian border, according to new
satellite images. The photos, taken by ImageSat International,
show a deployment of short range, nuclear capable Iskander
ballistic missiles near the city of Krasnodar, which is about
Page 1401
270 miles southeast of the Ukrainian border, Fox News reported.
ImageSat is a professional commercial satellite imaging
provider. Its imaging is regularly used by governments and
defense agencies for security analysis purposes. In apparent
consistency with their recently announced Belarus doctrine,
Russia said that the Ukrine no longer exists as a country,
though unlike Belarusian claims, made no clarifying statement as
to whether or not that meant annexation, obliteration, or abject
disregard would be the stated potential source of Ukraine
existence, as opposed to their terrorist harboring, as defined
by trusting compatriot, now defunct Dubya. Vladimir Rasputin,
displaying bulging eye bags consistent with the condition of
untreated, late stage sleep apnea, or untreated early to mid-
stage uranium poisoning as can be visually detected and
therefore subject to revision, ominously said; “Ours is it. All
is that.” The detailed satellite images show a missile compound
with several bunkers and a second nearby compound with multiple
hangars. An Iskander launcher could be seen close to a
transloader vehicle used to rapidly reload fresh missiles into
the launcher. Another transloader vehicle could be seen leaving
a bunker close by, the door of which was open, the broadcaster
added. Imagset International suggested the drill could be seen
as a “signal from Russia to the US as escalation preparatory,” a
rather sfe statement in light of other reports. Another similar
Page 1402
drill was held at an Iskander site near the Siberian city of
Ulan-Ude. Israeli Prime Minister Zohar Ben-Yahu accidentally
spit on his tie when he said; “Such a show of bupkes maiksh,
excuse me, for another backward goyishe threat with a limp uncut
noodle backup,” some think echoing the unspoken words of
affiliated parent, Bailey Post Rumpole. The Iskander missile has
a range of up to 310 miles, putting the war-torn Donbass region
of eastern Ukraine within striking distance. Pro-Russian
militants have been fighting government forces there since 2014
in an effort to establish an independent state. Russian forces,
perhaps vainly attemting to replay their successful Rus bashing
of the Khazarians centuries prior in a popularly believed
misinterpretation of the carelessly vague, yet undeniably
mounting, have provided both indirect and direct military
support to the militants. The war is ongoing, and its intensity
has, despite propaganda attesting to it having been waning, been
increased steadily since the front lines transmuted upward, its
alleged demise senselessly attributed to a cease fire which has
been violated almost every day since it was signed in early
2015. But tensions rose again in what is still considered to be
eastern Europe, following a naval clash in the Black Sea.
Russian vessels and helicopters pursued, fired upon and seized
three Ukranian vessels they claimed violated Russian territorial
waters. Twenty-four sailors were also detained. A Moscow court
Page 1403
announced this week that eight seamen would be detained for an
extended period, despite continued protests from Kiev and the
West. Ukraine has maintained that its vessels were using
international waters and blamed Russia for purposefully
instigating the incident. On paper, Russia annexed the Crimean
Peninsula in 2014 after Ukraine’s pro-Kremlin president was
deposed by mass protests. Moscow has since constructed a mammoth
bridge linking Crimea to Russia across the Kerch Strait, and has
reportedly been harassing Ukrainian vessels using the waterways
to travel between the country’s eastern and western ports.
Earlier this week, a senior Russian defense official delivered a
message intended to be an eye-opening warning to Kiev, suggesting its cooperation with western powers put its
sovereignty at risk, ostensibly as if it wasn’t in that
condition already. “Everything to split Ukraine is doing the
Kiev authorities, therein implementing the West's scenario for
separating Ukraine from Russia, while their own people have
ignored interests,” Security Council Secretary Nikolai Patrushev
told Russian newspaper “Rossiyskaya Gazeta .” “Like a bum in the
end, split effectively was the country,” he added. “The
continuation of such a policy by the Kiev authorities may
contribute to Ukraine's loss of statehood, as if it wasn’t in
already that condition.” Washington and Moscow are currently at
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1404
odds over the 1987 Intermediate-range Nuclear Forces (INF)
Treaty, which banned ground-launched nuclear or conventional
ballistic missiles with ranges of 310 miles to 3,417 miles.
A conscripted faceless soldier of indeterminate origin and belief is obliged to do his best to
herald the next incoming weapon of war; property of the author.
Within the guise of private courier easily denied entreaties,
Germany made a peace overture to the United Kingdom and France,
but said that the future of Poland, Belarus, and the Ukraine was
to be determined exclusively by Germany and the Soviet Union,
effectively contradicting itself for the benefit of “being on
record” as a testimony to their reasonability. The proposal was
rejected, and Rasputin ordered an immediate offensive against
France, which would be postponed until the summer due to bad
weather, which existed only in northern Russia.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1405
Kindly stated, the precocious Finnish machine gun nest aimed at neighboring Soviet “Red” Army
positions in a doctored photo, intended to appease hoth the Russians and their detractors.
If the existing fear inducing events engendered were not
sufficient; it is rumored that the Russians aided by the Germans
intend to annex Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, and the disputed
Romanian regions of Bessarabia, Northern Bukovina and Hertza.
Geography seems to place the advantage in any such maneuver with
the Russians. However, Reuters considers it fair to point out
that it may not be privy to clandestine revenue sharing
agreements. Bailey Post Rumpole said; “No one ever even heard of
those shithole places. If Rasputin wants them, let him be my
guest at the bankruptcy awards dinner he knows so well. Of
course, if any Jews are there, it’s a whole different story.”
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1406
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1407
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1408
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1409
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1410
Page 1411
Ignored minorities have issued ignored warnings since the
days of “Harriet and Ozzie,” as is stated by one who reads right
to left, and finally the shit has hit the unseen fan. Leibowitz
tried to belatedly explode the story. He was late, deficient,
lazy, un-motivated, etc. etc. etc., but most of all it wasn’t
his job. It should be noted that no matter the precise nature of
the world upheaval, it is not yet his or his tiny family’s
problem, and likely never will be. If that sounds self-serving,
please consider the fact that if everyone took care of one
person, just one, as he had, the world would be a heavenly
ideal. When not sleepy or amused, Isaac was probably now more
self-righteous than sorry, as this was none of his doing, and
his wishes had no relevance, thereby his largest regret being a
personal pragmatic one; that Fitz might have had his ass blown
away before having made him a Senior Vice President. “The delays
prompted by over-study can be quite a killer. Can’t they?”
Isaac went back to bed hoping against hope that it was all a bad
dream. His sleep was prevented by the pre-dawn flickering lights
hitting the window sill, the cold glow of his laptop, and the
wind howling like a canon outdoing the best of fantods causing
what seemed to be a difficult to ignore, creaky tremble in the
Brooklyn Bridge.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1412
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1413
Picasso’s “Guernica”; public domain.
Providing garish choral accompaniment to the principal and
pivotal pyrotechnic presentation, the sirens were blaring,
preventing his return to slumber. Isaac became certain that this
was the real thing; no dream bailout available; coming from too
many directions at once to be coincidental. He decided to leave
and go back to Gig Harbor, recognizing that if Manhattan was now
considered an acceptable target by the “official” powers that
be; he was much too close for comfort.
He sent Chloe an e-mail saying; “I’m OK. Hope you are too. I’m
driving back right now. Should be there in a few days.”
Concerned for her, one piece of luggage in hand, he stopped at
Joyce’s and to his liking, she opened the door just enough for
Isaac to see that she had Shmuel there. Joyce virtually giggled
when she said; “He has a pouch of cut stones. We’ll be fine.
Page 1414
Heading out to Huntington Beach in a few minutes. Right after
sunrise.”
Isaac slowly coerced his not-designed-for-city and initially
balky SUV through a few local Brooklyn streets. A drizzle began
so softly one might have taken it for a mist or a fog. Isaac
turned on his wipers and cut the frontal high beams down to rear
fog lights. Though still difficult, his vision improved over
that provided by the reflecting high beams bouncing off the many
miniscule drops of moisture. He got to the well lit highway, cut
the now un-necessary fog lights, decided that his name was
presently Isaac Weston, and took it west. Initially tentative,
for some unfathomable reason with every gas pedal push, he was
increasingly certain that he’d make it home.
“I’ve lost all interest in the sordid world affairs which I
never really had except in obligatory sociability. I have
nothing more to say. I’m headed home.”
He pushed the button to find that the car radio was still
working. Pre-set to a classic oldies station, it provided much
needed peace and solace.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1415
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1416
War and “Suicide is Painless” by Johnny Mandel and Michael B Altman; property of the author, the
latter under both the “fair use” and “transformative” doctrines.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1417
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1418
Highway West and “Let It Be” written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney; property of the author,
the latter under both the “fair use” and “transformative” doctrines.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1419
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1420
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1421
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1422
**41½**
Back!
Their Gig Harbor house; property of the author.
Gig Harbor view; property of the author.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1423
Abby’s kitten Ball; property of the author.
Abby and Mark; the kind courtesy of Pexels.com under their CC0 license; modified.
Ventura Highway
America
Chewin' on a piece of grass, walkin' down the road
Tell me, how long you gonna stay here, Joe?
Some people say this town don't look good in snow
You don't care, I know
Page 1424
Ventura Highway in the sunshine
Where the days are longer
The nights are stronger than moonshine
You're gonna go, I know
'Cause the free wind is blowin' through your hair
And the days surround your daylight there
Seasons crying no despair
Alligator lizards in the air, in the air
Wishin' on a falling star, waitin' for the early train
Sorry boy, but I've been hit by a purple rain
Aw, c'mon Joe, you can always change your name
Thanks a lot son, just the same
Ventura Highway in the sunshine
Where the days are longer
The nights are stronger than moonshine
You're gonna go, I know
'Cause the free wind is blowin' through your hair
And the days surround your daylight there
Seasons crying no despair
Alligator lizards in the air, in the air
“Ventura Highway” by Dewey Bunnell.
Page 1425
Just as the song hit the half way mark, Isaac made a right
onto the Pacific Lane he sometimes thought he’d never see again.
He slowed down to 5 MPH to celebrate and savor every inch.
The houses all looked the same as when he had left, and the
Collins’ white labbie, Rex, was chasing a ball thrown by eight
year old Timmy. They were having too good a time to make any
note of him.
Isaac continued to the end of the road where his jointly
owned western styled Gothic stood. There was a lone deer on the
front lawn, nibbling at something in the grass. The maple tree
they had made a family project of planting out front ten years
prior was healthy, tall, and wearing its full, thick, summer
green palmate leaves, with branches going in all directions.
Mark and Abby were lost in thought on the side swing, her kitten
Ball napping in her lap.
Chloe was the first to see Isaac, she smiling and standing
in the front entryway she had just opened. She said; “Look! The
maple tree that we all planted ten years ago is now OVER forty-
two feet tall!”
Isaac was home again.
Leibowitz Concludes
Page 1426
Chloe; property of Chloe.
End of Part 2 of 2
Page 1427
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