THE INFORMATION #813 DECEMBER 5, 2014

THE INFORMATION #813
DECEMBER 5, 2014
Copyright 2014 FRANCIS DIMENNO
http://dimenno.gather.com
francisdimenno@yahoo.com
https://dimenno.wordpress.com

WHEN THIS WORLD CATCHES FIRE
BOOK THREE: SAVAGE NOXTOWN
CHAPTER NINE: PART THIRTY-NINE: THE MAYOR OF HELL

Round about the time you turn twelve or thirteen, Yob, is when you realize that things ain’t always as they seem. That, in fact, in what the mystical sorts call the luminal world, that things are seldom what you think they are

For instance: picture putrid old Coach Crump, the pallid slum landlord and real estate man with the pointy nose whose creaky face needs a going-over.  Preferably with a steamroller, to smooth out all the crags. At the first of every month he goes from door to door collecting the rent money. Colored folk in Jivetown call him Mr. Rent Man. But he is far more. Namely, he is  is a well-connected Jacketeer who owns property up and down Noxtown. He takes his cut all the way from the top–skyscrapers and ever’thing–right down to the bottom–from Blind Tom the news vendor (who’s not really blind, and not really a vet, either, even though he says he is) and Luigi the fruit vendor (who has a thick Italian accent when he’s on the street, to baffle his foes, but who, I’d be willing to bet, speaks The King’s English flawlessly when he’s in his own home, three crowded rooms over the Fruit Stand–oh Luigi, you are a Man of Mystery–who knows what other secrets you conceal?) and from a ramshackle shanty known as the Old Sailor’s Home (where a bunch of superannuated fishermen sit on the front porch taking whiffs from their smelly corncob pipes and bragging about the gold they found in Timbuctu and other such mealy tommyrot, even though a good many of the old salts had never drifted any further than sixty miles from the shore).  

Old Coach Crump–nobody ever knew his real first name–it was probably something like Archibald or Percy or maybe Leslie–some girlish name–not fit for manly company–was a fraudster. He too pretended to be full of interesting facts, but he was a crashing bore. Allus telling you things you didn’t want to know–for instance, about the self-styled mountain man who lived at the top of Shanty Street on the grassless hillock in a tarpaper shack and brutalized his daughter–something’s got to be done, says he, pretending to care–but nothing ever was. I saw this girl he spoke of one time. She was wearing a torn flour sack for a dress and her hair was filthy and matted, like a wild animal. The Brute had her chained to a tree, like any beast. I brought her some water like anyone with a heart would do for so much as any panting dog and there was the sound of a rifle blast and some buckshot raised dust in the dirt beside me and I skedaddled, and right smart, too. I noticed while running to save my skin that the trees above the Brute’s shack were Catalpas, also called Indian Cigar Trees, with long slender tobys hanging from in between their heart-shaped leaves.  
 
I eventually guessed the reason old Coach Crump never did nothing about the girl, even though he owned the shack and even managed to collect rent on it onct in a while, was that he himself was doing things to the girl; likely jazzing her, and perhaps also doing other things that my immature mind could not yet then wrap itself around.  Crump was loony for Zooks, but any frail would do, when he got the fever.  

I don’t know why he never hired no other man to collect his rents for him, although I guess it meant that he didn’t trust nobody nohow to look after his interests as well as him. Him, with his turkey neck. He was well-known to keep a lucky charm wrapped up in a twenty dollar bill–sometimes he even wore it out in the open and then you could see him as he strutted around with a bone from a raccoon penis hung around his neck–it looked like the curved stem of a pipe–he said it was his good luck charm–you’d hear him on the brag among the menfolk at Feist’s Cigar Store–he’d keep his mouth shut when any of the Big Boy’s men were there, but you’d hear him with his ferrety nattering voice a-puffing and blowing himself up big when it was just the fellow small timers who was present and accounted for. He fancied himself some kind of combination of poet and sport—and he would bore his listeners for nearly an hour with a labored description of his prowess at making a girl feel satisfied–though I lived in the whorehouse and knew that for all his bragging he was actually more of a Minute Man–a sixty-second kind of fellow–the whores and Zooks all called him “The Rabbit Man,” and was always glad to see him because he never took up too much of their time ner made too much of a mess, neither. They flattered him shamelessly too, because they knew he had big time connections. Anyway, he would brag about how he throwed the whores across his knees and fucked ’em. Old Judge Rance Sniffle was there one time; he was a regular over t’ Feist’s part of town; he was a laughing but pompous man with a big alderman for a belly and had a watch-fob with an elk’s tooth and all sorts of medallions on the breast of his old fashioned jacket. The Judge was also a petty thief who was the terror of Blind Tom the news vendor and Luigi the goofy Eye-Talian fruit-peddlar–he would filch from their stands, not from need, but out of sheer cussedness, and they could do nowt. Like I said, Old Judge Rance Sniffle was connected. 

So Coach Crump starts into his bragging, saying, “And so I takes her behind the shed of the rail depot and I fucks her….”

“Hrmpf, my good man,” says the Judge. “Do endeavor, in the future, to nut use such vulgar terms.”

“How else kin I describe what happens, Judge?”

“Use the term ‘intercourse’.”

“‘Inntercourse’? What’s that?”

“That, my good man” says the Judge, “is a technicality of the language which you wouldn’t understand.”

Coach Crump obligingly resumed his story. “So there I was, intercoursin’ her back o’ th’ shed, and then I gave her a taste of the old Chicago Cross Jostle.”

Then Judge Rance Sniffle pipes up: “What’s that?”  

Crump: “Why Judge, that’s a technicality of fucking that you wouldn’t know anything about.”

Big haw haw from the assembled loafers and loochers.  “That Judge really is an ape-headed chump,” says one. The Judge wheels on him with all the dignity he can muster and pronounces the man a common vagrant who will fare poorly next time he is brought before his court, and the goof shuts up yammering trap right quick. But the damage was done. Wasn’t too long before the tale of how Coach Crump insulted the old Judge passed into local lore–and even legend. 

1*SALUTATION

DANGERMOUSE
ENCORE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbXLp2z6xL4

2*REFERENCE

TEN POPULAR MIND CONTROL TECHNIQUES USED TODAY
COSBY MADE WHITE AMERICA FEEL GOOD
ALSO SEE:
COSBY, MEGALOMANIAC
http://www.pajiba.com/think_pieces/a-quick-history-of-bill-cosbys-strongarming-megalomaniacal-behavior.php

COSBY: “SPANISH FLY”
OCCULTED LAYER OF ICONIC FILMS
NATIONAL GRID SEEKS 23 PER CENT RATE HIKE FOR RI CUSTOMERS
DYLAN’S ALBUMS FROM WORST TO BEST
HUNTER S. THOMPSON AND THE HELL’S ANGELS
DON’T RAKE YOUR LEAVES
MYTHCONCEPTIONS DEBUNKED
DR. BUZZARD’S ORIGINAL SAVANNAH BAND
CHERCHEZ LA FEMME
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4CK-f-Hhij4

11* DEVIATIONS FROM THE PREPARED TEXT: A REVIEW OF OTHER MEDIA

BILL COSBY. See BOB HOPE. Same superannuated refusal to retire; 
same coasting on a long reputation; same uncanny willingness to shill for
the highest bidder; same impulse to subject his audience to cranky,
retrograde, conservative rants. And those are his good qualities. 
Oh…and then there’s that other thing.

CONTROVERSIES IN POPULAR CULTURE.
771. TWELVE SIGNS REPUBLICANS ARE MENTALLY ILL

Anger- Check out our articles about doing battle with angry conservatives on Facebook who lash out at “effing statists and socialists,” attack folk singer Cat Stevens in a fit of rage, and flip out on liberals saying they are “lower than a snake’s belly.” Or feel free to check out how they attack each other if they disagree on something, such as the time last week when they slammed Ted Cruz. You can also check out the time Bill O’Reilly freaked out on an intern.
Antisocial Behavior – See Republicans’ hatred of women, gays and minorities.
Avoidance – Here’s a personal favorite: Michele Bachmann fleeing a CNN reporter after being caught in a web of lies.
Confusion – Check out this list of 10 of the most idiotic statements by Republicans, including favorite moments such as Rick Perry being unable to name the three government agencies he would cut if elected president, Sarah Palin insisting that Paul Revere warned the British, and Michele Bachmann confusing John Wayne the actor with notorious serial killer John Wayne Gacy.
Deceitfulness – I don’t even know where to begin on this one. How about these 10 insane, fear-mongering GOP lies from the recent election cycle? Or you might want to check out The Daily Banter’s recent article Debunking the Top 10 Most Egregious Republican Lies.
Delusions – Check out Republicans who cannot accept that Obamacare is here to stay – in specific the 54 times (and counting) they have voted in four years to repeal Obamacare – which could easily fit into the next category as well.
Denial- Check out the GOP’s Top 10 Climate Change Deniers, or how about the time Fox News claimed we were running out of sand in a segment denying the reality of climate change.  How about the time Michele Bachmann stated that God would overturn Obamacare? Or how about the time the creator of the death panels lie walked out of an interview after being confronted with the success of Obamacare?
Fears – see Fox News
Grandiosity- see Sarah Palin, Ted Cruz and Ted Nugent or if you want something an little more countrified how about Duck Dynasty…
Hallucinations – the prevalent belief amongst conservatives that God wanted George W. Bush to be president. Better yet, how about the time Bush said to James Robinson: “I feel like God wants me to run for President. I can’t explain it, but I sense my country is going to need me. Something is going to happen… I know it won’t be easy on me or my family, but God wants me to do it.“
Intoxication – How about House Republicans boozing it up while voting to shut down the government last year? Or how about a book detailing George W. Bush’s cocaine arrest or another book detailing his community service to cover up a DUI?
Sexual Preoccupations – check out Republican efforts to control when, where, how, why and with whom we have intimate relations.
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