WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER EIGHT: PART TWENTY-NINE: THE FALL
After the Reverend John Otis Cross gave his sermon regarding the worship of false idols, you could practically hear Whitey’s brain sizzling like a sputtering sausage on a griddle, as he then turned to the Reverend and lit into him with all the vocabulary at his command.
“You see here yon Reverend, a man of God, and one who is even among we degraded citizens a man surely due our respect. But if I hear one more word about this pig not having a soul, then surely here tonight a murder can–must–will–be committed, even right here, where I stand, for I can do no other, even in the sight of a Holy Creature of God created by the Supreme Being, ever benign–and this, this benighted efflorescence of a so-called man as punily betrays to represent Him, the Almighty His Own Self. This preacher-man is, I say unto you, a known fraud, who has been run out of the rackets by every sensible denizen of Blowtown, Noxtown, Rattown, Cattown, Stinkburg, Jugtown, Jivetown, Madport and points North and points South–everywhere from Freedom Street and Nirvana to Hell, West Hell, Diddy Wah Diddy, and Squeaky Hee Haw Junction.”
“That’s a lie!” sings the Reverend. “I never been to Squeaky Hee Haw Junction–nor any other of those infamous places! What we have here is the dreaded guilt by association–our friend here thinks that just because he can paint me as a traveling man, then I needs must be on the run from some unknown somebody or something. Yes, my friends, I am guilty. You see before you a guilty man. Guilty–of loving the Lord!”
“Lord, Lord, by Lordy, he sho’ is a fancy man, ain’t he? Don’t he talk smooth? Friends, some “fancy-men” among us would say that such an educated swine must need come from the asymmetrically depraved Duchies of ancient Saxony, or the thoroughly rotten boroughs of Dear Old Blighty. Some would say that such an arithmetical wonder needs must have been trained up by some learned A-Rab or Oriental Mastermind. Some would therefore liken the role of the greatest country that ever existed on the face of the earth to that of the Mongolian peasant whose filthy yurt smells of billy goats! They would compare the same great country that gave us Poker and the Sloe Gin Fizz to a bunch of bearded Afghanistani rabble playing kickball with the severed head of the Village Ee-jit! They would liken the good old U.S. of A. to a blindfolded rascal standing against a mud wall in Ouagadougou about to be executed for the silver fillings in his worn-out choppers! This pig was not trained in the ways of Big Chief Begs for Chewing Tobacco while he sifted through the scrapings and leavings of a garbage dump in Guatemala; neither was she tormented into doing a waltz by a scrofulous tangerine merchant in fabled Aleppo! Nor was she reared up as the pure product of a toothless bawling Yogi practicing his obscene rope trick in a crowded bazaar in Karachi! I say NO! This noble beast is the purely American product of American ingenuity, like the locomotive and the velocipede–like algebra and baseball! It doesn’t take a bunch of ching-chong spielers with their long sleeves for hiding hatchets and blowing snot and their gongs and whistles and firecrackers and Chinese Algebra and their long pigtails and inscrutable expressions to figure out what Common Sense would of told you long ago–that America is first–number one throughout the known universe–from Cramptown to Dingburg; from Bourbon Street to Gin Lane; from Pennsylbohemia to Transylopolis; from Foeburg to Belle Avon! And I say here and now that any man who denies the wisdom of my words stands convicted in the court of public opinion as a WITCHY-MAN!
“Well, we’ve all paid due attention and reverence to the very good speech with which our pastor here has condescended to disgrace us. Here is the rejoinder, dear friends, which I make unto him. Can your codswallop. You’re making no sense. Shut your pie-hole, Jim–ye give me the willies. Open not thy Maw, Stupe–lest I cram it with my bloody fist. Christers like you have no cause of gassing about in these here precincts. If I had Commodore Dutch here I would hand him two good pistoleros and tell him to fire at will at your flinty heart, and dodge the ricochet. If I had my way I would ask old sawtooth–old sawtooth here,” and he pulled out a long and dirty knife, “and cut you a new face from the old one which you just can’t seem to see fit to keep shuttered. Take off, Minister–ye’ll find but cold comfort here!”
The Reverend John Otis Cross took that as his cue to vamoose, and pronto.
Thereupon Jim Whitey smoothed his hands over his balding pate and muttered, “Now THAT was fun!”
And the grateful spectators applauded and even showered him with coins. Amid the inevitable expired tokens and poker chips and slugs and wooden nickels, some of them, it was said, were actually genuine legal tender.
ENO’S OBLIQUE STRATEGIES
5*AVATAR OF THE ZEITGEIST
USA AUTOCOMPLETE MAP
MOST GODLESS CITIES IN AMERICA
6* DAILY UTILITY
Alejandro Jodorowsky On Creating Your Soul Through The Tarot
THE DANCING PIG (1907)
POW-WOWS, OR THE LONG LOST FRIEND (1820)
Take one ounce tinct. rhubarb, one ounce laudanum, one ounce tinct. Cayenne pepper, one ounce spirits of camphor. Dose, from ten to thirty drops for an adult.
TO PREVENT WICKED OR MALICIOUS PERSONS FROM DOING YOU AN INJURY–AGAINST WHOM IT IS OF GREAT POWER.
Dullix, ix, ux. Yea, you can’t come over Pontio; Pontio is above Pilato. + + +
CIA JFK SHOOTERS NAMED
LENNON MURDERED BY CIA?
JERRY LEWIS ON “THE DAY THE CLOWN CRIED”
JERRY LEWIS HOSTS BOB HOPE ON THE TONIGHT SHOW, 1970
11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA
PAUL SIMON, PLAGIARIST
Do I dare to suggest that Paul Simon’s principle flaws as a composer seem to be stem from self-indulgence and laziness? And a certain amount of –flay me until I drop–bad taste? “Mother and Child Reunion” as a touching encomium to–a Chinese chicken and egg dish? “Lincoln Duncan”–”Just thanking the Lord for my fingers.” (Cute.) And Exhibit A: “American Tune”–a straight cop from the Christian hymn “O Sacred Head Surrounded. (By Crown of Piercing Thorns)” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0wIbgDVp5c
PAUL SIMON NOT WELCOME IN EAST L.A.
11A BOOKS READ AND REVIEWED
101 THINGS I LEARNED IN ENGINEERING SCHOOL. KUPRENAS. ****1/2
1914. ECHENOZ. ****1/2
ALL-NEW X-MEN 3. OUT OF THEIR DEPTH. ***
THE BEST OF COMIX BOOK. ***1/2
CLEOPATRA’S NOSE. BOORSTIN. ***1/2
CON MAN. WEIL & BRANNON. ***
CRASH & BURN. LANGE. **1/2
CRUEL CITY, RUUTH. **
FABLES 18. BABES IN TOYLAND. ****
FABLES 19. SNOW WHITE. ***1/2
GO F#CK YOURSELF. CARACCIOLO. **
HAND-DRYING IN AMERICA. KATCHOR. ****1/2
INFLUENCING MINDS. FRANK. ****
INNOCENCE AND SEDUCTION: THE ART OF DAN DECARLO. ***1/2
LOST AMERICA VOL. 1. GREIFF. ****
THE MYSTIC MASTERS SPEAK! HOWARD. ****
NEXT BIG THING. KITCHEN. **
THE PINBALL EFFECT. BURKE. ****
THE POISONWOOD BIBLE. KINGSOLVER. ****
ROCK DREAMS. PEELLAERT & COHN. ****
THE TRIP TO ECHO SPRING. LAING. ****
CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE. 728.
PEOPLE WHO BLOCK THE AISLES
I have a little song I like to sing–sometimes in the voice of the Disney character Goofy–for the benefit of people who block aisles and doorways. “I’m ObLIVious, I’m ObLIVious, I’m blocking the aisle, blocking the aisle, I’m in the way, In the way, I’m ObLIVious, I’m ObLIVious.”