Saturday, September 29, 2012

The Gruesome Disfigurement of the Incidental Hind

well...I hear myself say the word...it's a comment, I pause to open the door for my Maltese, Gracie...whom...if truth be known is an irritant to me...rather than the doting upon little pet dog whom I adore (I do...but it seems as though we must vehemently disparage that which we love...in these times)
Gracie has had a bath and yet she'll be dirty quite soon...but, that isn't what I want to talk about...my prone to filthy dog that has no elegant bearing when she is...and quite much when she's had a wash...like
The KiteRunner..I read the book a few years ago...was quite put out by it...ready to go back to DC and raise some more hell like I used to do with Dana and Tommy and Pilco and Alice...well...Alice I guess I didn't because she was a pill...Pilco was a skateboarder...went all over the place on his board...like a hand of the clock he held it in his arms when we'd meet up with him downtown...anyway...see that's like the 'well'...
I am well
I am not well knowing about the troubles of being a border country such as Afghanistan...I don't think anywhere along that line, Germany, the Checks...sorry don't spell out the name of Cheklosovokia because I can't...I won't...Afghanistan...now that really, really troubles me...I'm bothered and angry and my brother who was in the Air Force was there...he sent a family snap of a ruined palace-type place...well, that's my own home from what it once was and I'm restoring it bit by low budget bit (I'm about penniless so what the f does it matter if I talk about a mideast country with indignity?  not that I'm a stickler for proper English although it was a major in college, such as THAT was...you'd think, I do...that we're singled out...those of us who give positive input towards world peace...to be subjected to the most begning beeNINE..see spelling is giving out on me and the thesaurus..eh...
no I don't know that it's tripped...but anyway
the KiteRunner...I've been on the verge of tears since I woke up this morning...well maybe it's after thirty or forty years of political activism  I can let down a hem or two and be real instead of beading around George Bush?  the indians are great beaders here, they make barretts, key holders...clothing, it's great...but that kind of beading...eh...as it seems there is a great deal of it in Kabul and so on...you'd tell me, I suppose, oh, that's done now and I'd say I hear it on the news..I can't listen to the news, what would the news say of some tragedy in flesh like the KiteRunner's Assif...hmmm?
hmmm...he was a butt?  nah...won't say the author's name...the dude who wrote the KiteRunner...he's all about learn to fly the kite boy...focus elsewhere but he don't give a rat's ass about his best buddy Hassan...as he watches him be raped by Assif...why is that?  is the culture inherent?  is this what we do with those who look a little different than we do?  we're not homogenized...a direct operating system approach to being in the wild...car named Cougar crashes up car named Coyote?   I know that's reaching..I'm indignant, man and the words come fast...been telling people I'm joining the peace corps and asking to be sent to AFGHAN
is STAN...
Stan died a few years ago...his last name was HULL and he had pretty darn bad diabetes
his mother and I became better friends after that, because Stan was gone...she is old and doesn't get around so good...ok, cracking heart, really thumping heart and watery eyes
read first about little orphans from Asia...good book Ann Tyler, Digging to America...and then I watched the Kite Runner...
are we different in this time?  the things aren't about classicism...class is schizm...schism...I don't know...I am sad that there are people like ASSIF
he's an ASS if...he behaves badly toward such a noble creature as Hassan...
I sob...I really do sob..we did this to Jesus didn't we?  don't we ever learn by our christianity...this guy was down here with the rest of us doing amazing things..like Hassan and the sling shot, blopping up the Assif's...what a name, what a perfect name...am I a hater?  nope...I just want to know how those kinds of people get into the real world and aren't one of the missing tree frogs we used to have by the boatloads here in the Pacific Northwest Rainforest...I'm really sad there are victims of people like Assif...and it's supposed to be a story...it's a fiction
but I know there is strife in Afghan is STAN..now...I know this.....I don't know the particularly gory details of the STAN macro...I call it that because our STAN HULL is gone...but a macro to my way of thinking is not unlike a maggot in the way it parsecs information in computer engineering...so the AFGHAN...well
that's the other part of it...to play the dummy
hehe...I could do something about this situation? and how..be a martyr..well, yep...
I hear the very voice on the radio...SPRUNNNNGGGGspringggggSPREECH...like it isn't  hovering beside me in so many what do you say the timber of a person's voice becomes
I think of hot chocolate and how I have to wrap myself in blankets to stay warm in my house in winter...I could be home with my mother and brother and not freezing and being broke in my own house...I could, but I'd never think in that place because when I tried it my brother told me to 'turn off the tv'...because it was 8 am...and I guess at 8 am he thought he became in charge of things in that house...well
not unlike Assif...and it's not no dog we're talking about here...we're talking about the theft of the German's biological engineering discoveries by the Russkaya...I guess I call them that...I felt quite the student of Tolstoy back in the day when I was getting my English degree, which I didn't get...no doubt because I DID read Tolstoy...oh yeah, my name
hehe...oh, what's his face LaRoche?  who
who's the one that's the conservative of the day...the finger pointer?  wouldn't he be telling the truth...no, this goes much deeper than that...this is about a discovery in the Urals in 1900..nuff said...it's the ASSIF's we're (I'm) discussing here...how such a monster is craven into an image guaranteed to evoke despair...I don't seem to be able to spell...I feel that angry...I feel that characters in the manner of ASSIF...sounds like 'a thief'...we have a few of those...walk into your house..take your things...oh
and never speak of it...then and again..and you help them, try to understand the motivation...because
it's just like all those AK47's, with voices in the same mode...the very voice
same thing I guess I can't really describe it so much as I see that while some of us are elsewhere in terms of 'where we are'...some others of us are 'that person' for us and that guy is a variation of ASSIF in creating his own brand of monster...something like that
and the kid hates HASSAN when he sees what ASSIF has done to him...he does go the mile for it in the end...gets his face rearranged to rescue the nephew...that sort of thing, but he's never the guy his dad was...maybe that's it...maybe I don't understand that part of the struggle...but I sure did get it in Jane Austen's books...they were polite and slightly prejudiced about the bounty of wealth, well, you know...you are content with what you have...like my house was mine and then the bank had it and now the asking price is HALF what what it was worth and my truck has been REPOSSESSED...that sort of thing...can you blame that all on AK47's? 
when they're being manufactured next door, I think so, mmhmmm, yep
well I knew this when I went back to work up the hill...I knew the autoexecutor state because I knew the transits and so on...(how it is done)
I know because hesheit showed me a coat...I won't say beautiful because it was cheaply made but it was shaken in my face  MY BOYFRIEND GAVE ME THIS...HE GAVE ME TWO OF THEM...you see...it was a Kabul special, that coat
that was the smug weasly little child molester pushing it up my nose so hard it smelled like somebody pooped in there (sorry little Maia...grandma borrows your expression..well not sorry, it is funny how the baby girl said it).  But it's true...indignancy..I am indignant that such farces of human flesh still modem into operation and flush us out of our humbly held perches when all we wanted was to be left alone...really...but they have us now...they are ensconced N sconced
skonz..the candle thing...they get the new cars..the trips...the what? heat in the HOUSE?  mmhmmm...totally
oh yeah, the great tvs..the full subscription DISH...well, granted they HACKED that
mostly
but, the Afghan Is STAN thing...now that truly and utterly takes the cake...and I know...I don't have to be told...well, the big building in new york, the three hundred and twenty storyer...the one I stood in with Scott Jordan and looked over the Atlantic, well it was a day like today...geez I get all teary eyed again...like I was sent here by the CIA or something to do just what I have done...STATE FARM IT...
bee a gut neighbor...and my house was repossessed...they finally got over the smell of gore I guess, well they didn't know they were nothing but...and walked inside it.
I Remember the day Diana Townsend died...was it Spender Townsend...something like that, Prince Charles' wife, the accident
and guess who told me?  you know, they say if you expound on these topics they'll 'getcha' I guess that was Jesus' big routine, don't be a purist man...(see Tommy Chong in the old days...hear him say this...don't be a purist man..)  You know, you can't be anything BUT a purist...really...you can't...not if you're dedicated to the process of art and use it solely for the purpose of making life a better world for the rest of your fellow men (oh GOD and I ain't say the wimmin folks too because you know darn well I mean ALL of us...)
jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj
I think about what's his face..the protagonist in the KITE RUNNER...the fact that an inmate correspondence to a counselor in the prison where I worked was called a KITE...who knows what that stood for...once I read a KITE from an inmate and it said "I sent you THREE KIKES already)...and that's going to make me double over with laughter even now when I want to cry because I feel so helpless about the ASSIFs of this world, having lived next door to one who made it possible for my house to be repossessed...well, it's not like I was raped, but certainly I have never known the sensation of that which it is that is the part that is RAPED so I might as well have been although I'm told this is merely a hmmm, matter of loving the right person or as Freud would advise, get your fingers out of there...hehe, I like the KIKE joke but I also like the
hot chocolate I just made and am sipping and the fact that when it becomes cool enough to need a fire...the big rocks I keep on top of it are hot enough to ease the kinks in my back when I feel stiff, which I do now, though I haven't been up to much in terms of this that and the other physical energy wise working on the house and so forth ( I haven't skill I haven't SKILL..such a stupid mantra...)well...
and I'm not rereading this...I've stopped for a moment and had my tears, they were threatening since the book reading...the Kite Runner...how dare they, nothing has affected me as much, in contemporary literature...I must say...except that perhaps we created the solution here, even if it meant I lost the Michelina Haus...now I've got Mermaid's Reef and it's my big chance to sit down and talk about this book and all the other stuff it took to create the solution to the ASSIFs of this world...just give them their own roomfull of children and let them take their pick...oh yeah, that's the foster kid routine...and the last big one I had here...he was a real dough head...slow, ummm
the phone rings...it's the lady I gave the rainbow earrings to
we talk for several hours...I make dinner, beet tops, hamburger gravy with mushrooms and yellow peppers biscuits that don't rise that I pour the gravy over, a salad it's hot and I burn my tongue
today I helped paint the Lions Den a sage green...I am so thirsty with my dinner, what shall I have to drink...I am sleepy as well...it was a long night
I realize I have an entourage even if I don't want one...the husband I imagine for myself has provided it..along with my living status and so on...in a way to keep me happy and not apart from the things I love...this is kind of him...and in return for this...he is not here and I do not know him...but I do know the maker of the AK47s and I do not joke about this...it is not about the misuse of the word KIKE...or perhaps it is

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