8 views
the city of hell
the city of hell,
4-20-24
heater on, out of smokes,
something on the radio...
Beethoven's 9th...
Hello, Anton Leonhart:
Well, we've all come through our bits or we're
dead. Or we're living and dead--"this man's dead
life/that man's life dying/": Steven the Spender,
when he was going good... Now, hell, I've lost that
thing you sent me...
...Something was to be said about our lives, our
times. All our lives and times have been monstrous
and monumental, 1970, 1370, 1170... Of course, there's little doubt that the pitch has been stepped up. Although there is the same continuing war of Power against Less-Power, Money against Less-Money, Technology against Less-Technology, we also seem to be entering a war of color against color-- White, Black, Brown, Yellow, whatever, This brings the war everywhere and that isn't news. But each man or woman can feel more and more the fierceness in the streets, the hatred. A man isn't asked what he believes; the color of his skin is his only badge. For the first time in a lifetime, I carry steel if I go onto the streets after ten p.m.
I am white but I am not ashamed of my whiteness; I've handled it pretty well--meaning that I am poor. The trouble with the White Race is that too many of them hate each other. This is true of other races but not to our degree. We lack the cohesion of Brotherhood. The only thing we have is a certain terrible brain-power and cleverness and the ability to fight at the proper time; the ability to out-trick, out-think and even out-gut the opposition. No matter how much the White man may hate himself, he is simply gifted, but it may be ending for one reason or another... Spengler's DECLINE OF THE WEST... published in 1918, so long ago... although he gave it a 300-year time-table... the signs are showing... Either Whitey's got to get some soul or all his cleverness will be just so much spilled jism...
Perhaps this isn't what your sheaf was speaking
of anyhow. I've had too many drunken nights and
depressive days since I received it. And I always lose.
everything jobs, women, ballpoint pens, fistfights,
requests for grants from The National Foundation of the Arts, and so forth... where was I?
...
4-20-24
heater on, out of smokes,
something on the radio...
Beethoven's 9th...
Hello, Anton Leonhart:
Well, we've all come through our bits or we're
dead. Or we're living and dead--"this man's dead
life/that man's life dying/": Steven the Spender,
when he was going good... Now, hell, I've lost that
thing you sent me...
...Something was to be said about our lives, our
times. All our lives and times have been monstrous
and monumental, 1970, 1370, 1170... Of course, there's little doubt that the pitch has been stepped up. Although there is the same continuing war of Power against Less-Power, Money against Less-Money, Technology against Less-Technology, we also seem to be entering a war of color against color-- White, Black, Brown, Yellow, whatever, This brings the war everywhere and that isn't news. But each man or woman can feel more and more the fierceness in the streets, the hatred. A man isn't asked what he believes; the color of his skin is his only badge. For the first time in a lifetime, I carry steel if I go onto the streets after ten p.m.
I am white but I am not ashamed of my whiteness; I've handled it pretty well--meaning that I am poor. The trouble with the White Race is that too many of them hate each other. This is true of other races but not to our degree. We lack the cohesion of Brotherhood. The only thing we have is a certain terrible brain-power and cleverness and the ability to fight at the proper time; the ability to out-trick, out-think and even out-gut the opposition. No matter how much the White man may hate himself, he is simply gifted, but it may be ending for one reason or another... Spengler's DECLINE OF THE WEST... published in 1918, so long ago... although he gave it a 300-year time-table... the signs are showing... Either Whitey's got to get some soul or all his cleverness will be just so much spilled jism...
Perhaps this isn't what your sheaf was speaking
of anyhow. I've had too many drunken nights and
depressive days since I received it. And I always lose.
everything jobs, women, ballpoint pens, fistfights,
requests for grants from The National Foundation of the Arts, and so forth... where was I?
...
