RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,164
(I'm out of time)
Dear Milllicent - I took your
car from the driveway in
New Orleans, but never
brought it home. Some
black folks up in Portland
took it from me, saying it
was rightfully theirs. I
couldn't fight back, as they
burned the 7-11. I'd driven
up to Oregon to see what I
could see about all this that
was going on. Maybe write
about it, or just observe for
later. Nothing made sense,
and I took a Greyhound
down to Tempe, Arizona
a few days later. I got there
OK, well, really 'here,' since
I haven't yet left. It's quieter
here, but boring as Hell.
All you may hear about
Arizona; think sleeping
buros and inactive Central
Americans.
-
Up in Portland, the entire
range of rage was different,
and it seemed to be always
changing. No one knew what
any of it was about, but to them
it didn't matter anyway. The
strife and the theater of display
was all that mattered. I was
unable to make any rightful
connection between blacks and
Portland - like, what are they
doing there anyway? - but
the place was a sea-broil of
anger and activity. They seemed
to feel everything was theirs, or
should be. As if they were the
only people in the world with a
grievance about that world. Well,
get on board, Sunshine. All they
did was yammer and not listen -
a person could never get a word
in edgewise, and all they said
was bullshit anyway. They sure
can put on those porker pounds
too; you'd think they'd have
worked them off. I figured to
myself, as I was leaving, 'nothing
worse than seeing chubby people
demonstrating.' Headline: 'Big
Lines at Taco Bell!'
-
From Burnside Street to the
Big Willamette River, most I
noticed was big guys peeing.
I guess that's all part of the
street-life serenade now - can't
expect the authorities (or maybe
you can) to provide Porta-Johns
for destructive protesters? I too
remember the Burger King by
Zuccotti Park; big problems there
too, rest rooms, and food. I think
they did eventually drop in the
Port-Johns at streetside, but, it
was NYC after all, so I figure
every con man and hoodlum was
in on the take from that contract,
and they probably cost the city
2700 bucks a day, easy, each!!
I was there often enough, but
it too always bored me: all that
exhibitionist and false politics
was just getting started. But,
Occupy Wall Street had nothing
to compare with Portland, where
there was actual rage. Like stealing
your car, Millicent, and claiming
it was theirs. What was all that?
I wished I'd had had a gun.
-
Anyway, now I get disgusted
pretty easily, and it just mostly
makes me walk away. if I was
50 pounds heavier and had some
more inches, I'd fight the bastards
tooth and nail. But as it is, one or
two of them would easily drag me
down; and there's no justice. I'd
be found in the wrong.
-
It's a bit tedious, and I try to
think here of how to pay you back,
for the loss of the car, etc. I've mailed
you 50 lottery tickets (Arizona), so
checking results I guess can be a
real pain, but, when you get them
I'll let you know. (I wrote down
all 50 numbers, here).
-
Everything otherwise has become
so tedious. How we ever got to this
condition of being is beyond me; I'd
never have imagined it could come
to this. Sometimes I think people
are tired of everything, and they
seem just so ready to perk up
if only that 'right' person would
come along to rouse them. I did
once think that I could be a person
for that, but it never happened.
I ran out of energy just trying to
explain to people the things I
meant. In fact, I used to try the
ideas out on one or two friends, but
they'd always get pissed off at me
and no results were forthcoming.
I figured if it was that bad with
friends, how in the world would
others tolerate me? Screw 'em.
Now look what they've got.
And I'm out of time.
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