Re: letter to zoli

From: ef (
Date: Wed May 09 2001 - 13:18:07 PDT

hell no, johndear, it is very simple really. i have a bit of a
hangup, a hotbutton if you will, all due to these damned pictures of
deadpeople i keep in a box, having inherited them from my mother who
also kept them in a box, the deadpeople themselves not having been
boxed just burned. my mother who slept with the knife under her
pillow. so yeah, i have this, i dunno, thang, about racism and how it
makes holes in people. seeing as i have a great big hole in me. i
simply do not know who i am, really, i mean, you know, looking at the
ancestors, granny grampa who-am-i, the lineage, man, i have no
lineage, all alone, no past, no future, geneticly speaking it's all
over, boohoofuckinghoo. it's not all that bad really, i am thus
forced to contemplate the present, a luxury few can afford, what.

so don't give me shit about something you don't understand, *it* my
little buggaboo, of never being quite well, white enough. a jew is a
jew. but i thought you were hungarian, according to a nice hungarian
i made the mistake to befriend, here, in canadada.

not being white enough, haha, quelle joke since nice african i knew
in montreal also right away recreationed a little hatred, as soon as
he found out, you know, jewthing. i guess for him i wasn't black

you're a whiteboy, ain't ya, jy, so you will never know what it's
like, you see, the worst of it is that, haha, it don't *show*, so all
and sundry feel perfectly safe to mine mine. until, that is, i giggle
and avow. and wanna kill, well, civilizedly. i am, after all, the
urchristian, haha.

i am learning compassion, baby, compassion. well, only for grindingly
poor kids, the rest can go fuck themselves.


>Yes, yes, this is what I miss, an iron will that leaves me no wiggle.
>What I dreamed I'd get from women who were much stronger
>than me, twisted me around their little fingers, made me whine
>like a kicked dog, kept me coming back for more, one-sided
>negotiation where they had all the goods I wanted, and no matter
>my strutting and killing kittens to win them over, nothing I could
>do worked. They'd avoid me after one of my best displays of
>warrior fuckall. I'd call and call and get silent hangups.
>Then a call would be taken, another chance given, a warning
>that I'd be given one time to show I understood who was in
>charge. Period.
>Then after marriage the truth came out, and it was better than
>I ever dreamed it would be.
>Killing kittens is what love-filled life-long education is all about.
>Tried the tough-love shit myself, had a few bumbling successes,
>a few suicides, a few disappearances, but the willing victims
>just kept on acoming, mewling with proffered love and trust,
>as if I was a long-lost parent. Course I knew from my own
>experience that the up-close parent, the would-be parent,
>the trapped parent, is a killing machine, carefully taught how
>to do it by those so filled with hate, hurt and disappointment
>that things didn't work out that you have no doubt why storybook
>production of pefect humans is doomed to suicide, to infanticide,
>to luring big-eyed innocents for force-feeding prejudice unalloyed.
>Hate on four fingers, love on the other hand.

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