Letter to Krissy: full of raves, rants, poetry, chants, discourse, stories, sound and furry, signifying nothing.

Letter to Laetitia:
Pop Culture, The Death of a Planet.


laetitia_casta_part_04



Okay, I'm not done. I likely told Francisca about the turbo overdrive vacuum cleaner sales rep that hauled me out of bed when I was with my new love, that being my x wife now, not officially but we are separated.

It was the same gig.

"Bla bla bla."

"Huh?"

And a bottle of cleaning powder placed in the hand as a present. This is when one knows he is about to supposed to buy something he doesn't want no matter how much he will soon learn he needs it.

She barged past me still talking, me with only a small robe covering my body. She didn't care. Sell sell sell.

The next trick, before I had time to speak, she was gone and had used the phone and the ‘new' girl came with this large box. All she wanted to do was show it so she didn't get in trouble. She didn't know we hadn't been contacted before hand.

"There are three people in this house with no money, one is about to go away and no one wants a fuckin' $8,000 machine no matter what it does."

Funny how the business I am putting together depends on commerce.

It's not that I hate sales people. My Dad was one. The trick is to sell things to people who want those things. Otherwise it is lying and fraud. Legal sure but no less demented and sick. I've always said most laws were dumb, here's where I'd take a new one.

"Law 36,000,000,000 states: it is illegal to sell salt water to people stranded on desert islands in the middle of the fuckin' ocean."

I mean that law seems silly, but it's my first law for me and anyone trying to sell me salt water when I'm dying of thirst; may just get a visit form Barbaralba.

She'll come stick your salt water up your ass and make you eat salt crackers.


_bunnie stop:_


Just one more point on this sales thing. There is a mad woman that does her rounds in Saarbrücken. Mostly she wants cigarettes. If she doesn't get one, she has a fit. She has refined salesmanship to it's ultimate.

"If I get what I want from you, I will give you my appreciation."

For a minute and it's a lie most times.

"If I don't get what I want, I flip out."

That is the simplest way. Relationships have that as well. "Do what I want or I won't be happy with you."

And sex can get caught up in it.

"If you want a blow job you'll..."

And that I hate and is why I am likely alone because we all do it. But I'm willing to compromise. I agree that we can disagree and both make our own decisions. And if someone says, "If you... then I'll... or you can forget... or I kill myself."

"Then go fuckin' kill yourself, just keep me out of it. Make your own
goddam decisions for yourself and I'll try the same. All I want is your love not paranoid ownership or whatever this relationship shit stuff is that I can't get a handle on."

"Are you still trying to get Laetitia to love you."

"I don't know. To tell the truth I can't see what she would want with someone like me. This isn't modesty, I'm 80% loner. 20% isn't much to sell on someone who could have it all from anyone she wants, tie them around a string and play with them. I mean I have a feeling Laetitia isn't someone who wants to play with human puppets but to hope that she is as reckless as my wife must have been to gamble on a mad man is stretching it."

"So this is more like a warning."

"Ya. I'll publish it and any woman that meets me at some party where important people are bullshitting each other about how important they all are and says "Hey, you must have money, why not marry me, I'm beautiful."


_:bunnie stop_


Making deals. I want to talk of deals, or I did before I decided I'd finish the book. I'm sure people will read that book in 50 years. Perhaps not as many as read some other books, Michael Jackson sold more Thriller records then Bob Dylan with his 40 or 50 records. In 50 years people will listen to Bob Dylan how they listen now, no real retrospect, it holds it's truth, or at least the individuals attempt at it from their point of view. That's the winner. I don't know if I'll swing the honesty bit in here and how it's the only thing that can hold water, the bullshit glamour nothing behind it or in it stuff comes off big as cheap pop media instant success, but even if it isn't garbage, it is short lived and soon forgotten. Bravo Margaret Atwood, when I learn to write as well as you, and I intend to though I won't delude myself to think I could write as you do as well, I'll try give you better compliments.

For now I make it short and not bother you with it but it goes like, I've read maybe all but one or two of your novels and always new after a few pages that I believed you and thought I wanted to be your friend and my pen is finally out of ink. A refill. Oh a bit left after a shake.

"About Margaret."

"Oh yes."

Two thumbs up, three in Calgary, like Tauqir always said.

There is no connection for me to be proud because you are Canadian but I always mention your name when it comes to finding something to boast about in a land that has their troubles but also much to be proud of. And a little lie is okay if it doesn't hurt anyone.

"That's pretty fuckin' lame."

"I'm not here to write critique, I have enough trouble with a coherent sentence."

"Well stop it and get back to the business of reminding Laetitia that even if we are mad, we are just one me who takes his roll of writer in this vain and I'm gonna be rockin' soon so you can be proud that you love me."

"Canadians are good writers, tell her."

"Too late if she's seen this example."

"No no, it's the newest style. Your gonna rock the ship. They'll love you like they love Laetitia."

"But then she might be jealous."

"No, your success or anyone's success doesn't bare relevance on the success of others. Success is when you love your work and have a passion for it and life. Nothing else measures success. Especially other people. Scheit egal."

"You go me on my alarm clock."

Okay my sweat. I think I go wash my feet mostly to warm them up.
Take a break at 02:05 and maybe try one more drawing of Barbaralba. I have a pretty go idea. I was trying to make he look like someone but it will only work, I believe, if she is completely fantasy. My favorite place. La la land.

"The only place for a reality fighter."

"Yes only on the mastering of fantasy can one mirror true reality."

"That's it. Fantasy mirrors reality."

"Shit, that's too obvious, someone has said that a million times."

"Ya well, life goes on, we make our mistakes, we get older. Figure the odd thing out and hopefully we have some fun at it, otherwise, what's the sense."

"Live Wohl."


"May god have white shoes."

"Let the sun shine on you nightmares."

"May heaven slide up your ass and make you dumb to the wretched state of this dying, toxic waste land."

"That doesn't fit."

"May you find the peace and joy in your heart that one finds when one sits down and just looks out at what's out there."

"May Jesus be your busboy in the restaurant of life."

"Don't cross the street if you want to be friends with it."

"No, the chicken."

"What's a chicken."

"Crossing the road."

"At this hour, not likely. The chicken having the foresight of something dumb like say, a chicken, would go wait for the sun to come up."

"A tree doesn't sleep."

"Neither does your brilliance."

"Thanks."

"That was sarcasm."

"Whatever."

I could go on like that the next 6 hours but I'm not so much an asshole.

I wanted to talk about deals how when man was young, he made deals.

"You my friend, good, not my friend, I kill you."

Something like that was the start, then we moved on to:

"I'm your master, you are the slave. You do as I say, you have a pointless life of drudgery where you can try have some laughs or I kill you."

Now it's a little more complicated: "These are the rules, play by them or take your chances."

The rules are odd and hard to follow but we have a little more freedom. At least the illusion. I would call it progress but not necessarily to ultimate.

And of course ultimate is hard to define because we are animals and we depend on knowing that or who we are so we are human and do human things.

Struggle is human and perhaps a beautiful thing. If the hope is real and the struggle is somehow righteous in the struggler's mind, it is good to come toward the goal, it may be the end to reach it.


_bunnie stop:_


Just one more thing then no more tonight, this morning. Kent Klark could be the name of the Indian. Kent ‘cause that's the only Indian name I know. I mean it isn't an Indian name but an Indian has it as a name and Clark seems logical, Canadain Prime minister and all. We'll do two K's so no one thinks I'm trying any Superman tricks.

That's it. Good night. I love you.


_bunnie stop_:


I found myself defending Americans again this weekend. A little funny maybe since inland I tend to slay them. The question is weather or not the general public is stupider in America than the general public in Europe. That they are more ignorant of the rest of the world goes without saying. They are simply too far away form the rest of the world and believe they have nothing to learn that can't be figured out in their social illusion of freedom.

"They've got money and can import experts."

"They build good bombs."

"They sure know how to execute mass genocide."

"They are good at double standard and hypocrisy."

"They can rape a land and buy up the leftovers at a good price."

"They can make you believe that they believe they are the chosen race."

"They have some good hockey teams."

"They can make Darwinism illegal in 1999 and invent a bullshit science based on some book written by assholes that like to control the masses with lies about eternal life through giving up one's own life to unquestioned obedience to a suffocation law."

"Are you talking about the new law in the hill billy state where they took Darwin out of the school in exchange for a calculated mind fuck pseudo science."

"Yah, there was news all the way over here that they really did it and it isn't a joke even though it is obviously mad and a step back into the dark ages."

"That would be a pretty good argument that they pretty fuckin stupid as well as ignorant."

"That they are fuckin' stupid and ignorant isn't the question of course they are. They are a backwards bunch of sleeping morons but the church also has a pretty good grip on the dullards here in Europe. The clowns in Byron want to have plastic crucifixes of some dead bastard that wanted to be king and Roman idiots that took him and his premarital sex loving mother, we don't know this, perhaps she really was raped by god."

"You are straying."

"I mean, how can any political system actually take time to deal with a system of superstition made by some dead culture."

"What dead culture."

"All cultures are dead. There is nothing left but idiots doing things their grandfather did because his grandmother did. A bunch of meat heads using blatant lies to find reason to justify their cultural superiority so they can go kill and convert others."

"The old beat the stupid kid into submission then pretend to love it."

"So what do we want to say?"

"I agree that Americans are generally a little more ignorant in some ways, a little more arrogant and dangerous but some Americans are just as bright as some Europeans and I don't believe we have to blow them all up to save the world. Let them slaughter a few more people and dictate their American Democracy money rules lie a little more and I'm sure they'll work it out if we encourage them to stop being stupid, arrogant, loud, double standard, hypocritical mad fucked up mutant primates. Especially if we are friendly about it."

"And there's nothing like fuckin' a nice Christian slut."

"Excuse me."

"There's something nice about forbidden sex."

"Sex isn't forbidden."

"You can only have sex with your spouse, that's the law."

"Only for Christians. God fearing Christians. And nobody really believes that shit anymore. No one is that ignorant."

"I hope you don't offend anyone."

"You mean like Laetitia."

"For example."

I hope you aren't Catholic, Laetitia, then I'm sure we will have trouble.


_bunnie stop_



by Joanne B. Washington

read on. laetitia_casta_part_05



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