Disco Donn Demands Deliverance
The Gambler looked over at Donn to see if his story made the impression he wanted. The story wasn’t bad, it was even entertaining if you weren’t over critical but Donn didn’t believe the Gambler had talked to a live Elvis. He just shook his head and said: First that, now this.’
The Gambler realized his mistake. He should have known that Donn wouldn’t be like the ignorant buffoons gathered in the jungles under bridges. Why hadn’t he advanced the story as a theory instead?
The Gambler cleared his throat. ‘First what?’ He enquired.
‘Aw,’ Donn said, ‘I ran into this crazy guy, shadow boxing his life away, talking about how there’s no difference between Nazi Germany, Russia and here.’
‘Oh, you met the Mankato Kid, did you? He’s near? Hmm, yes, well, I taught him everything he knows you know. Did he go on about Holly Grove, Ludlow? Yes. When he first met me he didn’t have a rationale, a story; he was just prancing around the edge trying to keep from falling in. I saved him; kept him from losing it completely.
His is truly a tragic life. he is an innocent decent guy who was victimized by a whole town. He was pursued by the elite while the rest of the town turned their backs on him.
Like most people rather than retaliating on his enemies he turned their venom on himself, internalized it, made himself the guilty party, so to speak. Hence you see him circling the town pounding away at the air, punching out his internalized enemies; hysterically trying to punch his way out of the bag he’s in.
I researched the situation. What he should have done, I think it’s too late now, was either kill one of them or kill a child or grandchild or two. Thus the vengeance would have relieved the strain while teaching his enemies the lesson they needed to be taught.’
‘Yeah, but who wants to go to jail for the rest of their lives?’
‘My god, man, don’t be so crude. We aren’t talking the insanity of Richard Speck or Charlie Whitman, we’re talking the same kind of discretion the Kid’s enemies used when they killed his father. The killings would appear accidental of course, goes without saying. That’s the way it’s done in polite society. Elvis should have had a couple of them offed too. He was big enough to get away with it. Would have made him feel better and they would have made room for him. That’s the only thing that sort of people respect.’
The Gambler looked over at Donn’s feet. ‘Say, those are very nice shoes. Ferragamos?’
‘Yes. Yes, they are.’
‘Pretty fancy footwear for a knight of the road. Hey?’
‘I like nice things.’ They both chuckled appreciatively.
‘Yes.’ Said the Gambler who believed he hadn’t yet impressed Donn with his verbal wizardry. The night was still young in his eyes and he could talk forever. He had entertained the homeless for seven or eight hours at a stretch. He eyed Donn up and down, then shrewdly hit a topic that made Donn’s eyes light up.
The Gambler was a learned man. He had actually spent more time in the stacks of America’s best libraries than- one hesitates to say any- most professors. He studied with system. He actually had written several hundred pages of universal history which he had secreted in sheaves among the hidden recesses of the various libraries. He was a knowledgeable man. What he is about to tell Donn was factually true, whether one chooses to accept his interpretation of the facts is one’s own business.
‘History moves along at a very rapid pace. Too rapid for we mere men to grasp its significance as it happens. There are too many interested parties to obscure the facts, turn them to their own benefit. Everyone want to rearrange the facts, change them to suit their own needs and prejudices. They want to revise history to reflect their own fantasies. They want to conceal their own criminal deeds while exhibiting those of others.
Thus all ideologues become obstructionists to the true understanding of reality. This is no more evident than in the study of the history of Adolf Hitler.’
The Gambler noted that Donn’s eyes lit up at the mention of Hitler. He’d struck paydirt. The Gambler warmed to his subject.
‘That Hitler was one of the most destructive conquerors- perhaps the most, but that’s a qualitative judgment- in History needs no affirmation. The facts speak for themselves, as they usually do. But let us consider the recieved opinion that Hitler was an aberration, that somehow he stands outside the worst standards of human conduct. I tell you frankly, Donn that relegating him to that role places an obstacle in the path of comprehending history that is insurmountable. My writings are undertaken to demonstrate that not only is Hitler in the tradition of great conquerors, albeit, perhaps, the most destructive, but that his behavior is an aspect of the personality of each and everyone of us. Yes, there is no escaping psychology. Hitler did nothing that any of us wouldn’t do if we thought we had the ability to escape retribution.
Now, this holds for all peoples. There are no innocents. Freud tells the story of Heine who painted this idyllic picture of what would satisfy him and at the end desired his enemies to be hanging from trees in front 0f him. I am happy to forgive my enemies, Heine said with Freud quoting approvingly, but only after they have been hanged. There you see, the main problem to understanding Hitler and the whole period is, of course, the Jews. As unpleasant a fact as it may be they are omnipresent throughout European history. In many ways their virtual annihilation destroyed four thousand years of hopes and dreams. I think, although I can’t prove it that it shook their hopes of Messianic redemption to the ground. Quite clearly their God tested them too severely for no apparent purpose. The net result of the period seems to be that the Euroamericans have brought them under control again as before emancipation. The disciplining that the Jews escaped by the Emancipation of the French Revolution and which resulted in the two Great Wars seems to have been reimposed or is being reimposed. The expropriation of the Rothschilds by the French was a significant act.
In any event, as what is actually a rear guard action, the Jews are doing their uttermost to prevent an objective examination of the period. Their 614th commandment is not to allow Hitler posthumous victory. On the one hand they deny their own implication while denouncing Nazis to the uttermost.
I mention the Jews, Donn, because History, Western History, cannot be understood without understanding their role in it. To discuss the Jewish role objectively is to, not only leave oneself open to charges of anti-Semitism, but inescapably to be so. The truth is anti-Semitic. I am no an anti-Semite, which is different from anti-Semitism. To the victor belongs the spoils. But that inevitably means that the losers are despoiled. Unfortunately for the Jews their historical role has been that of the losers. A habit of four thousand years is unlikely to be broken soon.
But, back to my point. How were Hitler’s actions aberrant? Man has always destroyed what was in his way. There are indications that when primitive man disputed a plain with herbivores he merely stampeded them over cliffs to get rid of them. I am not such a sentimentalist that I make a great distinction between herbivores and homo sapiens. Specially, it is almost certain that Cro-Magnon man exterminated the Neanderthals. There are sentimentalists that say that the two species were assimilated but in the light of the activities of historical man this seems highly improbable to me.
There is a great deal of wisdom in the saying: The child is father to the man. So, certainly Hitler’s actions are in accord with his primitive ancestors.
Out of a wealth of examples you do understand that I must necessarily be selective. After all as Gibbons put it, history is little more than a recitation of the crimes and follies of mankind. Who am I to dispute with the master?
While the Bible was at one time universally believed to be true, modern scholarship casts doubt on the accuracy of the whole Bible. I myself believe it to be a work of fiction, and not expecially good fiction, which manipulates what might be facts into a coherent whole serving the needs of the Jewish people. None of it is to be believed as history. Nevertheless if fiction is to be believable it must be based on probable occurrences, or even actual occurrences conveniently arranged.
Thus when the Jews state that when they invaded Canaan they exterminated man, woman and child of the inhabitants of numerous cities to make lebensraum for themselves the story is plausible. So, the ‘inventors of morality’ are no different than the rest of mankind. One may also include these murders under the heading of genocide. Not only is mass murder common but so is genocide. What could be more natural?
In addition to the race wars the extermination of peoples can be extended to ideological differences. As chance would have it the first great ideological war involves the Jews. As a matter of fact the Jews are unavoidably the ferment of Western History in any age or place. It is just so. It can’t be denied. They must needs be discussed. The remarkable thing is that entire volumes of history are written without even mentioning Jewish involvement except perhaps a passage lamenting an inexplicable anti-Semistism. A recent history of Germany by Hajo Holborn scarcely mentions the Jews. Incredible, what?
While Judaism has always been an ideology it doesn’t appear to have taken definite shape as such until confronted by the Hellenic ideology fostered by the conquests of Alexander. While the rest of the world embraced Hellenism, the Jews rejected it.
To be sure a portion of the nation was attracted to Hellenism but this merely set in motion the crisis of the ancient world. The Jewish Hellenists being the weaker party called their Hellenistic masters to their aid.
The conservative element resisted the imperial government bringing on the War of the Maccabees which resulted in the independence of Israel against the Hellenic Empires. Now, Donn, much of this interpretation is disputed so if you have any objections, just say so.
The Jews, at this point, must have believed that as they were not to be allowed their ideology undisturbed that it was incumbent on them to conquer. Their manpower was insufficient for this so they had to recruit more. As the wish is father to the deed they made war on their southern neighbors, the Idumaeans. Having conquered them they forcefully circumcised their little wee-wees, so the story goes. This pretty effectively made the Idumaeans Jews albeit, sullen Jews.
But this was a pretty ineffective way of adding to the population and I’m sure the backlash was more than they were prepared for. After all, Roman law classed circumcision with emasculation and forbade both.
The Jews then embarked on a course which they had never employed before and have never employed since. They set about a serious course of proselytization or converting non-Jews to Judaism. Now, Donn, we’re getting into areas that you have to study hard to get at the facts. Much of this information while harmless in itself, is willfully concealed by society. As a young history student we were all warned away from studying it. We were told, in so many words, that we would be dropped if we pursued the topic.
The Jews were remarkably successful. By the time of Augustus, which coincides with the birth of Jesus, which may or may not be a coincidence, they were firmly established throughout the Empire. They were making converts, which involved circumcision, at a quick step pace. Plus their ideology was strange enough to enlist sympathizers who stood between Judaism and Paganism called ‘God-fearers.’
Jerusalem served as a counter capitol to Rome as Judaism formed an actual empire within the Empire. Every professing Jew was required to send a half shekel to Jerusalem once a year. If they all complied, and there were millions in the Roman Empire then millions of shekels went to Jerusalem every year. Thus, one has an interesting historical problem which no one has ever addressed. What happened to those millions per year? What were they used for? Fomenting sedition perhaps?
The two ideologies were locked in mortal combat. Now this was also a time of extreme Gnostic religious fermentation. Impossible Gnostic beliefs rose to the pinnacle of impossibility. It is not my purpose to go into these beliefs but suffice it to say they all found expression in the person of Jesus the Christ. Now, while the Jews of the empire sent their half shekel tax to Jerusalem they refused to pay the Emperor his taxes. The story becomes more familiar. In the Jewish mind they were obligated only to God, not to the Empire. I think you can see the emerging problem.
Jesus tried to cut this Gordian knot by saying: Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s and unto God that which is God’s. In other words he was trying to effect a compromise, separating the spiritual kingdom from the temporal kingdom. There would still be an empire within the Empire but one would be spiritual and not in conflict with the temporal. Peacemakers were as little thought of then as they are today. The Nazz was crucified. All that remained was for the war to break out. Which of course, it did.
The Jews fully expected all Jews throughout the Empire, interestingly enough they called it the Evil Empire, to rise up and slaughter the non-Jews. Their goal was simply to exterminate all the non-Jews. Do you imagine that the program has been changed? And Hitler is thought to have been an evil man. Think of it! The Jews were certainly less than twenty percent of the population but they were going to exterminate the rest.
While there was Jewish unrest throughout the Empire the actual war was confined to Palestine. In 70 AD Jerusalem was conquered and razed. But the Millennial frenzy was on the Jews. They wouldn’t give up.
The Dead Sea Scrolls uncovered a document called the War Between the Sons of Light and the Sons of Darkness. Some say it is allegorical but the real war closely followed the blueprint the document offered. The Jews were, of course, the Sons of Light. The war was to begin in the South and then spread North.
In the sixty-five years following 70 AD that is exactly the course of the actual war except that the war didn’t progress too far North. In 116-18 the Jews of Africa- Cyrene, Egypt and Cypress attempted to exterminate their neighbors. The war was fanatical but they were suppressed only to flare up again in the Bar Kokhba rebellion which ended in the virtual extermination of the Jews. The exasperated Romans could take no more.
Thus Hitler was prefigured in this, actually, gigantic struggle for supremacy.
When the Saxons invaded Britain they carried on a war of extermination against the Britons. They killed every man, woman and child that fell into their hands. The Britons themselves fleeing to Armorica or what has become known as Brittany in France, in their turn, in one district, they killed all the men of the conquered people. Now, get this, so that the women, who were spared, couldn’t corrupt the British language, they cut their tongues out.
My god, Donn. It must be clear what Man is. Show me how Hitler violated the parameters of human behavior.
Tamerlane, or Timur, roamed through Asia decapitating the men, women and children of towns of one hundred thousand. He piled their skulls in huge pyramids which can still be seen.
Genghis Khan, who we respect because he’s not White, caused the destruction of millions and millions. He depopulated huge areas. He transported, uprooted in modern terminology, large populations. I mean, hell, Genghis served as a role model for Hitler. If Genghis is a hero why is Hitler a villain? But, you see how the human mind works. Favorites can do as they please.
Oh yes, I know, well, you will say he employed slave labor, put people on starvation diets and worked them to death. Quite right. Now, Donn, don’t think I’m apologizing for Hitler because I’m not. But things have to be put into perspective. One cannot excuse in these what one condemns in those.
The very same thing happened right here in the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave. Those of us who have never been able to deal with the state of affairs as they exist have always been out here on the road. After the War Between The States of hateful memory, when the railroads were pushing West, spreading South and North, tens of thousands of us roamed ceaselessly back and forth, up and down. They called us hoboes and bums then, now they call us the homeless.
But those that didn’t have what it takes for the carefree life joined the ranks of labor. That is to say, unskilled labor, the lumpenproletariat. Those who have what it takes to accommodate themselves to Leviathan become skilled laborers or white collar workers. By their very inexplicable natures these have always done well no matter how much they’re paid. We carefree ones hate them to the bone.
These groups combining with those restless souls who are always trying to accumulate pelf at the expense of their fellow man accepted the prevailing view of history that the poor, meaning in this case unskilled labor should always have their faces ground in the mud. This notion is Biblical and therefore Jewish. The basic premise received tremendous support from ‘science’ in the nineteenth century by the works of Malthus and Darwin. The ‘scientific’ view being that a surfeit of laborers drove down the cost of labor. The thought being that as there were more mouths to feed then nature could provide for, the less there was to go around, then the less people would accept for a hard day’s work. Now you see why intelligent men took to the road. There is always plenty out here. All you have to do is ask for it.
As these were the poor they were considered to have no rights. They could be treated as one wished. Now between the War Between the States and Woodrow Wilson, Men of Property were a law unto themselves. As J.P. Morgan said to the President of the United States: Why didn’t you send your man to my man to talk it over. The magnates made the rules.
At the close of the War the great period of immigration began. It is probable that the movement was encouraged by the Magnates to drive down the price of wages in accordance with Malthus’ law. If not, they skillfully employed the precepts.
Work forces were organized to be comprised of as many different languages as possible. Thus any segment of the work force could communicate only with its fellow nationals. They were easily divided and controlled. Then, as in the great steel mills, men were worked twelve to fifteen hours a day seven days a week for starvation wages. Safety precautions were not even considered.
When men were injured or broke down under the strain or grew too old- the last of which as you may imagine happened early in life- they were simply discarded. Left to die.
If they resisted they were merely gunned down by the private armies of the Magnates. The armies went under the name of Pinkertons or some such.
The poor were expected to understand and keep their place. Nor were they allowed to withdraw their labor. When that happened as at Holly Grove and Ludlow they were turned out of the company housing which they occupied at sufferance and high rents. Having moved into tents, the Magnates called in government troops to machine gun men, women and children from armored trains. At Ludlow where they had dug pits within the tents to avoid the bullets they were fire bombed and burned to death. Women and children.
It should be borne in mind that the Magnates who ordered these deeds were both Jews and Gentiles, not only Gentiles as is often pictured. The two nations acted as one. Brothers of the dollar. Now you may say that for some reason the slave laborers of Hitler are different from American slave laborers. If so the difference is so problematical that I don’t care to argue it.
The whole system ws changed by one courageious man. For his class betrayal he has been defamed ever since even though more worthy than any of them.
But first, here’s an interesting detail. The police of New York City were using dental drills to extract confessions long before the Nazis did. True. Think about that.
Back to my story. Now, just as the savagery toward unskilled labor was reaching its peak in 1916-17, just after Holly Grove and Ludlow, Henry Ford had made a success of the Tin Lizzie. Single handedly and with no help from the financial community of Wall Street, both straight or Jewish, Ford had built a billion dollar corporation.
Then in 1915, as soon as he was able, amidst the horrors of Holly Grove and Ludlow he chose to double the wages of his unskilled laborers. He adopted a decent attitude toward workers in his plants. In one fell swoop he disproved the existing theories about labor. He overturned the rules. He was never forgiven for this. Both Jews and straights piled on engaging him in lawsuits, sabotaging his efforts, defaming him and tormenting him in general. They didn’t break him but he died in very bad odor.
So, you see, Hitler was no break with accepted practices. His crime was merely a matter of degree or style rather than substance. He didn’t disguise his intentions behind hypocrisy.’
Donn had fallen asleep by this time. The Gambler noted but as he was hot in the pursuit of his ideas he continued on, talking to himself in the dead of night.
‘Even in the context of Hitler’s times there was absolutely nothing extreme in his actions. It is a well known fact that Hitler patterned his whole program on the Judeo-Communist pattern.
As Judaism is the pattern of all Semitisms so Communism and Nazism were cut to measure from that pattern. The Jews, of course, deny anything but incidental relationship to the Bolshevik Revolution whereas as the most casual examination of the facts will show, they were its backbone. Certainly in the early days before Stalin’s counterrevolution and subsequent purges.
Nor was the threat confined to Russia. After the triumph of Bolshevism in Russia, Communist activists flowed back through Central Europe. The emissaries were almost entirely Jewish. I’m sure this fact can be explained in any one of a number of ways but the fact remains.
The so-called German Revolution of 1918 which undermined the German will to persist- the famous stab in the back- was engineered by those Jews as were the various power seizures or attempted seizures, in Berlin, Bavaria, the Ruhr and other places. This is an uncontestable fact, undeniable.
Then a particularly savage Jew- Bela Kun- seized power in Hungary. If his deeds there were widely known all sympathy for the Jews would evaporate. The whole story has been suppressed worldwide. The same as saying the holocaust never happened. Even I have not been able to find an adequate history- in English of course. The central horrific fact seems to be that Kun crucified thousands of Christians, one on each telephone pole for miles and miles. Telephone poles form a cross, you see.
The same was done in Russia where God knows how many millions of people were slaughtered; we won’t even discuss the willful starvation of millions in the Ukraine.
Now, at this time the Jews were seeking a homeland. Some were plumping for Palestine, some for another place wherever it could be found. Taking advantage of the disorder in Russia the international Jewish community decided to appropriate the Crimea in the South of Russia. Bela Kun who had meanwhile been driven out of Hungary was sent down from Moscow to depopulate the Crimea for Jewish occupation. Yes, that’s right, he was sent to exterminate the inhabitants. Now, this was done in conjuction with world Jewry; specifically by a couple of organziations you’ve never heard of, nor have many others, called the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee and the American Jewish Committee under the overseership of Jacob Schiff.
Kun eliminated several hundred thousand Russians before being called back to Moscow. His method was simply to take his victims out to sea, tie rocks around their ankles and chuck them overboard. Thus one may say this was the will of the Jewish people, dissenters aside.
Even though these facts have been suppressed you may be sure that Germans, Poles, Hungarians, Roumanians and whatever are well aware of them. Their well publicized ‘anti-Semitism’ beween the wars was based as much on fear as any prejudice.
It is the custom to discredit anything that Hitler said. But the nationalist reaction of the Freicorps in Germany following the Great War was a desperate fight for survival. When Hitler said of the struggle ‘We know that if we fail our heads will roll in the sand.’ he was not exaggerating.
One points the finger of horror at Hitler’s slaughter, quite justifiably so, but had the Bosheviks won in Germany six million or more German nationalists would have been slaughtered. So you see it’s really six of one or a half dozen of the other.
I mean, really Donn, if boys will be boys what is one to do? I have no idea. Separate them and tell them to behave, I suppose.
My point is simply that Hitler, bad as he was, was no worse than any of the others on the playing field. There is no aberration. There is no discontinuity of history. Certainly mankind has every reason to be ashamed, for after all, God knows how many millions of years of development man has undergone and he is no better now than his earliest ancestors. We’ve just got better weapons. What Hitler did is embedded in the subconscious of each and every one of us. Send not for whom the bell tolls…you know. That’s the lesson to be learned here, Jews and Nazis to the side.’
The Roving Gambler ended with a thump well satisfied with himself. He looked over at Donn sleeping the sleep of exhaustion. He looked at the Ferragamos on Donn’s feet. They were way too small for the Gambler but they were such nice looking shoes.
The Gambler picked up his rucksack, going over to Donn to remove his shoes. Then with sure skill he carefully rolled Donn about until he got Donn’s pants undone. Easing them down the Gambler sodomized Donn. He pulled Donn’s pants back up without fastening them. Then rucksack on back, Donn’s shoes in hand he casually strolled out of the ravine.
‘Goodbye, Donn.’ He sneered. ‘I’ll see you again up on the nine thousand foot level of the Big Rock Candy Mountain.’
The fire was glowing ashes as the sun came up like nutty putty across the Mississippi in the East. It had risen fairly high before the light penetrated Donn’s exhausted sleep. He became conscious of the light penetrating his eyelids but the effort of opening them was too great. He heaved two great longdrawn breaths and issued a long loud groan. Slowly he became conscious of his arms and legs. He lay long feeling the nervous connections before his limbs seemed to join his body.
His eyes popped open. Without moving his head his eyes searched down his body examining his right arm and leg but still not moving them. Suddenly the reality of his existence crashed through his consciousness. He groaned again wishing he had never awakened. But he had, he was alive, he couldn’t die.
The experience at the dumpster the previous night seemed an eon away. It might just as well have been in another lifetime. He remembered his old self slithering off his arms. He remembered his form cracking away to reveal a smaller self. He summoned all his willpower to put back together a self with which to face the world.
Sensation began to return to him and he realized that his half opened mouth was kissing the dirt. He groaned again turning with a great effort onto his back. The freshness of the weather around his crotch made him look down where he found to his amazement that his pants were wide open. Mystified and uncomprehending he zipped them up. This exertion reactivated his energy. He rose to his feet looking around. Then slowly a vague memory, as from a dream, of the Roving Gambler returned to him like the steady drone of the Gambler’s voice. He took a couple steps toward the remains of the fire. He raised his foot in surprised pain as he stepped on a sharp twig. Looking down he found to his amazement that he had no shoes. He stood looking down at this feet stupified. Where in the hell could his shoes be?
Looking around he saw them nowhere. His life collapsed around him again. Unable to endure the hammering anymore Disco Donn Contrales sank to the ground, leaned forward head between his knees and sobbed uncontrollably.
What did I do?
What did I do?
What did I do?’
The harsh mistreatment of Maggie Spingold was taking effect. Donn was transferring the guilt of the world onto himself. The next step would be to accept the guilt. He would feel the need to expiate his ‘sin.’ But not yet.
Donn prayed to die but since his prayer was not answered he began to think about what to do next. There was nothing for it but to walk out. Unlike the Gambler who had walked out of the ravine Donn climbed up the opposite side of the hole he had fallen into.
He had an uncomfortable climb out of the ravine. The pricks from the sticks and stones on his feet were bad enough but the unfamiliar feel of earth crumbling beneath his toes and molding under his feet disturbed him. Then too the ground was cold and wet from the heavy dew of the night. He had spied the way back over the railroad tracks to the highway over a half mile distant but the walk through the woods was too daunting for him.
Then as he looked to his right he saw a man standing looking through binoculars- a bird watcher. He was six-four but he had on a nice pair of ox blood loafers. Looking down Donn saw a rock that tapered to a blunt end about the size of a gun barrel. Donn picked it up, carefully sneaking up behind the bird watcher. Donn jammed the blunt end of the rock hard into the bird watcher’s lower spine. It hurt.
‘Don’t turn around.’ Donn ordered. ‘Your life or your shoes.’
‘What?’ Said the birdwatcher in amazement.
‘Your shoes or your life. Don’t give me any backtalk. Just step out them, keep walking and don’t look back or you’re a dead man.’
‘Hey, heck yeah man, sure, you can have them. Don’t kill my for my shoes. They’re yours.’ The birdwatcher said kicking off his shoes, limping away as rapidly as possible.
Donn, without a thought at the ludicrousness of the situation stepped into the shoes and tramped off to the highway in relative comfort.
The birdwatcher wore size thirteens while Donn wore nines. The sight was like a little boy walking in his father’s shoes. Donn threw a shoe a couple times on the way back to the highway otherwise they did their job.
Back on the side of the road Donn stuck his thumb out. Within fifteen minutes a big Cadillac Eldorado hove into view, stopping just in front of him. Donn clumped hurriedly up, pulled the big front door open and slid into the luxurious leather seating.
The Cadillac made quite a contrast to Donn who by now was very scruffy with a three day growth, untrimmed mustache overgrowing his upper lip, blond hair uncut and unkempt, his suit and shirt actually dirty.
The driver was driving barefoot, had the heat on to warm his feet. The heat quickly warmed Donn’s clothes.
The driver sniffed the air: ‘Do I smell garbage?’ He asked pointedly.
Now Donn ashamedly realized the odor of the dumpster still clung to him. He cleared his throat to formulate an anwer making the mistake as he did so of swinging his right leg across his left in the spacious front seat.
The driver immediately slammed on the brakes skidding across the highway and back again onto the shoulder.
‘Hey, those are my shoes!’ He bellowed as the out of control car skidded to a stop. He had Donn’s door open pushing him out headfirst as he stripped Donn of the shoes.
‘You’re just damn lucky I don’t kill you.’ He shouted as he accelerated back up the highway leaving Donn sprawled by the side of the road.
‘Oh, Jesus. When will this ever end?’ Donn said out loud as he sat disconsolately by the side of the road. He just sort of blacked out.
The next two or three weeks were only blurry streaks in the movie of Donn’s life. His mind broke down, failing to record impressions as he found his way across Minnesota and Wisconsin into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.
Everywhere it seemed as though people knew he was coming. He seemed to be recognized by total strangers. To the observor this might have seemed to be paranoia on Donn’s part but indeed he was recognized by total strangers; Maggie had faxed his picture to the Neworks all the way down the line. Thus Donn was rudely roasted and shoved on down the highway. He never knew where he got the white Adidas tennis shoes he was wearing as he neared the top of the world on the spectacularly beautiful blue shores of Lake Superior at Sault Ste. Marie.
In the subliminal workings of Donn’s mind he had been unconsciously directing his steps hither since St. Louis. He perceived the Locks as being so far out of the way that he would be able to find refuge and be ignored. But he was mistaken. It seemed that his thoughts had been anticipated by the residents. In addition Donn’s bedraggled dirty unkempt appearance now confirmed Maggie’s faxes. The people seemed to form a solid wall that shunted him back toward the South. Whatever plan he had had was now destroyed. His goal had been reached and now as he turned to cross the peninsula toward the Straits of Mackinac and the Grand Traverse he was wandering aimlessly. He began to think seriously of swallowing his pride and returning to his father’s house and Waco.
About midway across the Peninsula the disaster of his life again overcame him. It was a day of light traffic. No cars came by. The sun shone down brightly but with seemingly little heat. The paradox registered strongly in his mind. Now Donn felt alone and abandoned by the whole world. Even Helios seemed to deny him his warmth. He fell down on the shoulder of the road on his back arms outstretched, sobbing.
By coincidence this was the exact spot at which Dewey Trueman, then known as Far Gresham, left the highway to disappear into the forest to the West. Now Donn’s will gave out. He was a beaten man. As much as he hated it he decided to go back to his Daddy and Waco. He thought that in the bosom of his family he would find surcease. There was still a distance to go before he fit bottom.
He began to move with some purpose although now the ravages of his situation were clearly impressed on his face and posture. Even without Maggie’s interference he now projected a repellent persona. His looks were still there but beclouded by a black darkened mental attitude. Despair and loathing advanced before his visage. Aware that he would be rebuffed he was aggressively defiant and defensive in manner. Aware of who he had been, the memory haunted him.
Having bummed enough for a dinner he washed in a gas station in Grand Traverse and entered the restaurant at which Angeline Gower still worked after all these years. When Trueman as Gresham had appeared here in the same, actually worse, condition nearly thirty years before the good hearted Angeline had taken him in and saved his life. Dewey had recovered his equilibrium then walked out on her. Embittered she had rejected all other men.
But there was something about Donn that kindled thoughts of Dewey as she silently watched that scruffy replica of a human being eat. Funny, he could have told her where Dewey was which she longed to know. But had she deigned to strike up a conversation with Donn the Bum how could she have ever asked the right question. How could he in his misery have known how to answer. How many times do we have our heart’s desire within our grasp without knowing it.
Donn’s steps were now directed somewhat aimlessly, toward Texas. He was also approaching the nadir of his virtuoso performance in his facet of Donn the Bum. Donn wished he could have skipped these scenes in the movie of his life. As bad as his appearance was it failed to match the deterioration of his mind. Donn’s mind just came and went. Sometimes he was aware of what he was doing sometimes he wasn’t. As chance directed him his steps led him over nearly the identical route followed by Dewey Trueman when he was exiled from the Valley; down through Midland into the Saginaw Valley and into Valley City itself.
On his progressing Thelema into town he had excellent success panhandling. At the big intersection of Thelema, Main and Melmoth hunger over took him. As it was now dinner time his mind slipped into the glories of yesterday. He momentarily forgot his deplorable condition and entered a tavern and eatery called the Royal Palms. The facade was not overly imposing. Donn pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The place was done up in that spartan Michigan style. Wood floors, plain tables, checkered tablecloths, when there were any, and chairs. The dining area was through an arch to the left, a long bar ran down the right. The Royal Palms was scarcely presentable. Donn even less so.
The bartender took one look at Donn, leaned out over the bar to indicate the back door to him, and ordered him out. As though in a dream Donn walked the length of the bar pausing under the EXIT sign for a lingering look at the empty restaurant which was indeed in the twilight of its existence.
He pushed open the door to step out amongst the garbage cans. He looked at them absent mindedly for a few moments then, without thinking began picking among the remains to see if there was anything good to eat. He was delighted to find a T-bone with a large piece of meat attached.
His delight was abruptly destroyed by laughter and catcalls. Donn looked over to see several young men standing by their cars. They jeered at him becoming abusive and threatening. Donn was jerked from his reverie. Looking up at his detractors Donn blushed red to his very bones.
In better days Donn could have handled the whole bunch easily but in his present defeated state of mind he cast them a furtive glance and shambled hastily down the street before anything could develop.
He was unaware of where he was but fortune led him out of town. By luck he followed Melmoth into Nelsonia right on Wigwam and out into central Michigan.
Donn’s crumbling pride was very severely crushed by his ejection from the Royal Palms. The place was one he would never have considered entering in palmier days except as a lark. His path led out across Western Michigan through Lansing past Benton Harbor and St. Joe down to Gary.
By now Donn was half crazed, turned inward, fearful, scarce able to go on yet aware of the terrifying length of the final stagger down to Texas. Once again fortune favored him with a piece of luck.
He put out his hand to John Fadinkle: ‘Say buddy, give a dime to a guy who’s down and out!’
With such an approach Donn was no threat to the Roving Gambler’s three day record. Donn’s vision of panhandling was from movies of the thirties. Bums no longer asked for dime nowadays. The most audacious didn’t even ask for spare change. They demanded dollars, fives and tens at least. The most bold and arrogant would demand twenty or even more. Shoot, when the world owes you a living who can settle for dimes.
Fadinkle was twenty-eight, one of those lean over bearing men. He was a self-righteous Christian who took his charity seriously. It allowed him superiority over his fellow men. While earning a living as a bookkeeper at the mills he gloried in doing men such as Donn spectacular acts of charity. He didn’t get too many opportunites so he seized this one.
‘You want a dime, hey?’ Fadinkle bellowed to watch Donn grovel.
‘I could use it.’ Donn winced under the additional humiliation. Had he seen the ludicrousness of asking for a dime he would have laughed out loud at himself.
‘What are you going to do with a dime, young man?’ Fadinkle said although obviously younger than Donn.
Donn made some helpless gesture then turned to walk away. Fadinkle grabbed his arm pulling him back.
‘Just a second, young man. It just so happens I’m a Christian. I may be able to help a fellow man more than he anticipated, no matter how low he’s sunk. What do you want the dime for?’ He demanded stentorously again, placing a hand on left hip and extending his right leg.
Donn stood looking at this Ancient Mariner for a moment. His intuition was sound. He unburdened himself to Fadinkle.
‘Trying to get home to Texas, eh? Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson, son. At least this time you have applied for help and comfort to the right disciple of Jesus.’
Donn winced at the words ‘help and comfort’ fearing the worst.
‘I’m going to take you down to the bus station, son, and buy you a ticket to wherever in Texas you want to go. And I hope you find Jesus and mend your ways.’
And he did take Donn to the bus station, bought him a ticket to Waco, bought his dinner while they waited for the bus into Chicago and put a twenty dollar bill in his hand for the trip.
Donn was too weary to be overjoyed. Fadinkle wasn’t. He exulted in his acts of Christian charity. His self-satisfaction was vulgar. He boasted of the deed vaingloriously for months. Yet there was no denying that his gratuity was real and this his act momentarily lifted the burden of cares from a fellow man’s shoulders.
Donn found a seat on the bus. He was so exhausted he slept through the bus change in Chicago unaware that he had made it. He slept fitfully all the way through St. Louis. He became conscious again just ouside of Joplin.
Somebody Shoot Out The Jukebox
I don’t want you under my roof
with your eighty-six proof
Watered down till it tastes like tea;
If you’re going to pull my string
Make it the real thing
Donn had been sleeping fitfully all the way from Gary. He didn’t want to wake up. He didn’t want to open his eyes until the bus pulled into Waco where, he hoped, he would open his eyes on a new world where the horror would disappear. But just South of Joplin he became aware of an oppressive weight pressing him into the side of the bus. As consciousness forced itself upon him the hot smell of exhaled Southern Comfort wafted up his nostrils. Cautiously he flickered his left eye open angling his pupil to look over his left shoulder. He found himself looking into a big fat beefy face gazing at him intently.
‘Oh, you’re awake.’ Screamin’ Big Daddy Gargantua said.
‘Get off me.’ Donn demanded.
‘You looked like you were dead to the world.’
‘Get off.’ Donn insisted shoving futily against the huge three hundred eighty pound bulk of Screamin’ Big Daddy.
For some reason the term ‘back off’ registered with Big Daddy whereas ‘get off’ hadn’t. Perhaps because ‘get off’ had the drug connotation of getting high. Big Daddy eased over but he was so huge that he overflowed into Donn’s seat leaving little room for Donn. Donn cast his eyes around looking for another seat but to his consternation he found the bus full.
‘Hi, I’m Screamin’ Big Daddy Gargantua, leader of the band.’
‘I’m the leader of the Bull Lee Band. Rockin’ mother-fuckin’ roll. We’re the best. On our way to Big D to fill a gig. We’re hot, in demand, wanted, live and how.’
The music industry is not noted for its delicacy of language. If fact a lack of coarseness is punished by ostracism. Big Daddy’s speech will be severely edited but so the reader will understand the reaction of the other passengers here is a brief sample of Big Daddy’s actual discourse.
‘I fuckin’ got on this shit-eating bus in fuckin’ Joplin. The other fuckin’ guys are going by fuckin’ micro fuckin’ bus but their wasn’t fuckin’ room in the fuckin’ thing for me. Fuck me, huh?’
Big Daddy had a high piercing voice propelled by a massive diaphragm which as the Bull Lee’s lead singer he knew how to use. The passengers soon called the driver’s attention to Big Daddy but as he was a huge 6’3″, 380 the driver was reluctant to antagonize him. With good reason, Big Daddy went from smiles to rage in less than a twinkle.
‘Donn said: ‘Your name’s not really Screamin’ Big Daddy Gargantua. No one’s is.’
‘No, it’s not, Donn. Big Daddy is a stage name like Wolfman Jack. Clap for the Wolfman, hey , buddy? What a guy. Listened to him for years up in Charlevoix and down in Detroit. Always wanted to be just like him. That’s why I chose Big Daddy. The Screamin’ is a tribute to Screamin’ Jay Hawkins. You can see where Gargantua came from. Ha ha. No, my real name’s Robert Cunningham. But can you see me as Little Bobby Cunningham? I can’t.’
Big Daddy took his arm from under his coat propping his other huge arm against the back of the seat in front of him to conceal the pint of Southern Comfort from which he was swigging from the driver.
‘Want some? Don’t let the driver catch you or he’ll throw you off. They’re really strict on it, besides we’re probably in a dry county. You never can tell down here. Screwy people.’
Big Daddy was not only drinking but he was high on marijuana, racing along on amphetamines and God only knows what else. Big Daddy was one of those with a fabulous capacity for drugs and alcohol. He pushed his body unmercifully. He would be dead in five years. Heart.
Big Daddy was representative of the end product of American civilization. We are all told we are responsible for our lives. We make the decisions that determine what happens to us. On one level, of course, this is true. At the same time none of us are responsible for our psychology. We all have to respond to serious challenges before we have either the intellectual or moral capacity to make wise decisions. Most of life is shucking off the bad habits foisted on us both by acquaintance and parents and most importantly the reconcilement of what C.G. Jung called the collective unconscious to reality; or else we succumb to them.
For the mind of Big Daddy and his Vague Generation was filled with specious received opinion that controlled his and their conscious behavior and against which they were unsuccessfully rebelling. As the weight of society opposing them was too great the rebellion was repressed only to exhibit itself in several forms of bizarre behavior which was inexplicable to their elders. Hence, as George Clinton of the Black group Funkedelic so aptly noted: America began to eat its young. The older generation which had created the situation declared war on their offspring, made them outlaws.
Big Daddy was a WASP, redundantly styled White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, a racist defamatory tag in a colored America. Although the Jews do refer to Blacks as Black Anglo-Saxons with some justification. Thus because Big Daddy and his fellows were at the butt end, after 1950 they became objects, not perpetrators, of racism in America. Any derogatory remark could be made against their race but they were forbidden to make derogatory remarks against others. Remarkably they went from masters to slaves with little protest, even with a sense of humor.
Thus, although it was an unacknowledged truth, the Black/White and immigrant/native roles were reversed. This was not probably all that strange as the numbers of Negro and immigrant descendants far exceed the native Anglo population.
The WASP population was made to feel ashamed of its past even though all progress emanated from their ideals. They were made to feel supremely evil while all other peoples were portrayed as faultlessly virtuous. Racism was made to be an exclusively White fault. Thus the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 was portrayed as shameless bigotry of the White race against the Yellow race. Bigotry is a term which has no social definition except White against coloreds and Jews.
The broader aspect of cultural or racial clashes are never considered in America. Any ideological differences are automatically attributed to race. American experience is never placed in the broader context of the European and Chinese diasporas of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. America means myopia. The aims and goals of the migrating nations are never considered. The received opinion is that everyone was fleeing religious persecution. Not so. This might have a basis in truth before the French Revolution but not after. During the nineteenth century Europeans were merely trying to better their economic lot or fleeing political retribution.
In the lesser known Chinese diaspora of the nineteenth century the Chinese were met with hostility wherever they went, and they went all over the world. The White invasion of the world released the Chinese to begin a counter invasion. Brown-Yellow racism was much more potent than Yellow-White. The Chinese were subject to several massacres in the Philippines. Throughout South-East Asia and the Indonesian Archepelago there were frequent bloody clashes between the indigenous stock and the immigrant Chinese. All eventually imposed Chinese Exclusion laws, so the the United States was by no means alone. There can also be no difference between brown-yellow or white-yellow discrimination or the yellow-white discrimination against Whites in China. It’s all bigotry, if one sees the world in that term.
In many of the South-Eastern nations the Chinese were expelled in the twentieth century and the remaining Chinese had civil disabilities imposed on their culture. Certainly the Chinese in the United States have little to complain about. They have managed the Whites well. It would appear that in comparison to other races the Whites are even benign.
But the Chinese and Japanese in America retired into their exclusive communities and have had relatively small effect on the formation of the American character. Anglo social attitudes have been most effectively altered by two European immigrant groups. those two groups, as well as the Blacks, had the greatest effect in the creation of the Vague Generation. Both were shrouded in gross misrepresentations of their characters.
There are no innocent peoples. All peoples can be found at the wash basin of God trying to wash the blood from their hands. Received opinion states that these ‘innocent’ groups arrived pure and were corrupted by vile criminal Anglo-Saxons. Nothing could be further from the truth. They brought it with them when they came.
Italian immigration was mainly from the Two Sicilies; the island of Sicily and the southern half of the boot. The area was indued with a criminal appreciation of society before immigration began, where it was in progress of development and continues developing to this day. The Mafia is presently struggling for control of Italy; its American offshoot might be construed as doing the same in the United States. ‘Bigots’ predicted the situation in the early twentieth century.
The Two Sicilies are poor countries, they weren’t always but prosperity does not exist in a criminal society. During the early nineteenth century the Sicilians were the migrant laborers of Europe. They despised education. Workers went North during the summer to return during the winter. Eventually Italian laborers began to migrate across the seas to Argentina and Brazil or anywhere in South or Central America where there was work. The intention was always to return home with a cache. Inevitably large numbers remained overseas permanently.
In the 1890s New York was added to their itinerary. The Italians were migrant laborers, millions came but millions returned. The net result when the Great War disrupted this migratory pattern was that there were several million Italians stranded in the United States. The great enclave or colony in New York City was and still appears to be foreign colony in American territory. The European diaspora was not confined to the United States or even North and South America but extended to South Africa, Africa, the Middle East, South East Asia, Australia, China and in fact, the world. Movement was virtually unrestricted. the passport system was relaxed. People could come and go pretty much as they chose. As a result a shortlived international society grew up. A sort of circuit was formed. The resultant lack of societal controls allowed vast criminal networks to develop.
Thus the famous Italian slave boys of New York City who were organ grinders on the streets for their owners. Opportunities were rife. Thus also the notorious White Slave Trade which had already developed in Europe spread throughout the world.
The White Slave Trade involved the second of the peoples who have altered the Anglo culture of America. These were the Jews. At the time the Jews vehemently denied any involvement in the trade but recent studies, by Jews, have confirmed the fact if it needed confirmation.
No group has cast more aspersions on America than the Jews. In the official version of their entry it is told that a holy group of religious ascetics, uncorrupted and pure, arrived from Mother Russia to be forced to congregate, in the densest mass of humanity in the world, as the per capita population of ther colony in New York City was. Once they were in the United States the WASPS extorted and abused them. Under the pressures or American society the Holy People were stripped of their identity as their youths abandoned the ways of their fathers. Forced to live in indescribable poverty they nevertheless rose above their circumstances to realize the American Dream: A chicken in every pot, a car in every garage and free sex.
The scenario is not even half true. Jewish society was already in dissolution in the Pale of Settlement. A lingering seething resentment against Rabbinical Judaism had set in decades before. The youth were already in the advanced stages of the rejection of Rabbinical Judaism.
The Jewish reaction to the failure of the Messiah Sabbatai Zevi had already brought into existence the philosophy of Jacob Frank in the eighteenth century which was based on the notion that the Messiah would never come so long as there was evil in the hearts of men so that people should indulge their evil impulses to get them out of their systems to make way for the arrival of the Messiah.
Thus by the end of the nineteenth century the Jews were in control of the world wide White Slave Trade. Jewish gangs similar to the ones of New York City were already roving the streets of European cities. The Jews, as with the Italians, merely picked up their culture and brought it with them to the New World. Needless to say not all Jews were of the same mind, what culture is. Respectable Jews went so far as to deny the criminal gang members burials in consecrated ground. Yet the criminal class was so numerous that they had their own cemetaries which they found Rabbis to bless.
Respectable Jews came to accept their criminal class on an equal basis. In 1928 the arch-criminal, Arnold Rothstein, then very notorious although little remembered today, was buried in consecrated ground with great pomp.
Nor were the Jews exploited by goys. They exploited each other. The tenements were owned by fellow Jews from the beginning. The first floor apartments were rented to prostitutes. When the mother of the Jewish writer Michael Gold complained to her landlord about the prostitutes the landlord merely shrugged and said it was business. If Gold’s mother was willing to pay more than the prostitutes then the landlord would be happy to rent to her.
Like the Italians the Jews of New York arrived in such numbers that the Jewish areas nearly formed a Jewish state in America. They did. Nor did the intense crowding on the lower East Side have anything to do with America. The Jews had always been crowded in the Pale. Look at Israel today. The term ‘he doesn’t have a corner to call his own’ refers to the habit in the Pale of renting each corner of a room to different families, thus one room might house up to, say, twenty people. Add to that the insecurity of the Jews seeking safety in numbers and you have the dense population of the Lower East Side.
Working out of these colonies, which were impervious to the American police, the Jews and Italians formed a criminal network that was so pervasive it dominated the p0litical life of New York.
Originally the Italians were too insular to do much more than prey on their own people. They nevertheless came into conflict with other ethnic gangs. The result was a destructive internecine warfare. It was obvious therefore that some sort of syndicate was necessary. The intermediary for this was Arnold Rothstein. Time has dimmed Rothstein’s renown but his notoriety during the twenties was paramount. What he was doing is obscure to this day although his criminal activies seemed to consolidate both political and criminal activities toward one goal.
He was the agent who brought the Italian and Jewish gangs to the accommodation known as the Syndicate or organized crime. He was also organizer and financier of bootlegging after the adoption of prohibition. He was muscled out of the liquor business. Rothstein cast about for some way to realize the huge financial bonanza of prohibition. He selected the drug business. He had just succeeded in organizing the necessary worldwide system of contacts when he became politically superfluous. He was assassinated in 1928.
But the criminal influence in political circles was so great that the criminals were able to push many laws through the New York legislature and the US Congress that it made it difficult if not impossible to convict them of their crimes. Their power was accepted by Anglo society as ‘another form of doing business’ thus criminalizing the Anglo mentality. The ideal of virtue was pushed aside in favor of the ideal of vice.
The Jewish politicians aligned themselves meanwhile with the New York politician Al Smith and through him to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Smith lost his bid for the presidency through his parocialism but FDR succeeded. Through FDR the Jews succeeded in being able to directly influence the President of the United States. Thus the coalition was formed that ended in the introduction into American society of the Jewish philosophy of Pluralism and Political Correctness as opposed to the Melting Pot and Freedom of Conscience. So you see, it could, after all, happen here. We were just watching the wrong place.
The point is not that the Jews and Italians were necessarily worse than Anglos, it’s just that they were not any better.
That was part of the problem of Screamin’ Big Daddy and the Vague Generation. They were made to feel dirty and inferior. They were made to assume the collective guilt for Hitler and the Nazis and the Evil in the world of which they were made to believe all others were innocent little children. The Vague Generation was punished if it did not so believe. When the Anglo and German Americans pointed to the Mafia they were admonished that the Mafia wasn’t representative of the Italian people. Thus while they were collectively guilty for Hitler and the accumulated Evil of the world the collective guilt extended to no other people. Logic was thrust aside.
Just because, they were told, some Italians were Mafiosi not all Italian were. True enough as far as it goes. But the fact is the the Mafia is representative of the Italian psyche. While all Italians are not Mafiosi, all Mafiosi are Italians. The Anglos and Germans have no history of comparable organized crime. If the Italians discountenanced the Mafia the Mafia would cease to exist, so collective guilt can be assigned to the Italians. Instead the Mafiosi, if not honored in the Italian community, are powerful enought to command ‘respect’ and punish any dissenters with death.
Even though the facts contradicted the assertion on the face of it, WASP children had to accept the fact that they were ‘dirty’ while Italians were clean despite the Mafia.
So with the citizens of the City On The Hill. The ‘inventors’ of morality were not only guilty of the most heinous crimes but they sent the ADL crisscrossing the country to denounce the ‘anti-Semites’ who pointed it out. The ‘anti-Semites’ were punished by the loss of jobs and social status without the benefit of a hearing or trial or even a definition of ‘anti-Semite.’ To be denounced was to be guilty. Shades of McCarthy. Isn’t anybody watching?
While the anti-Communists of the period took it upon themselves to publish ‘Red Network’ type lists that at least allowed the victims some avenue of protest, the anti-anti-Semites went clandestinely about their evil work.
Neither would the Jews accept responsibility for their faults while projecting an aura of criminality on Big Daddy and the Vague Generation.
Concurrently, the drug situation initiated by Rothstein matured rapidly in the post war world. Drugs were, of course, not new. They had always been there. They were used mainly by the upper and lower classes. If one examines popular music of the thirties and forties- and popular music is a very accurate mirror of society- one will find numerous references to drugs from the society composer Cole Porter to the Black composer Cab Calloway.
But for some reason the authorities increased the severity of the statutes against drugs just as the massive effort to extend their penetration began. Drug dealers feeling the pressure turned for safety to recruiting juvenile pushers who had been placed outside legal jurisdiction and couldn’t be prosecuted.
The drug push coincided with the development and spread of chemical pharmaceutical stimulants and depressants. In addition certain herbs, like peyote buttons and mushrooms emerged into prominence. The pharmacopeia of drugs became immense. As mankind is always seeking salvation from without, the older generation eagerly embraced the pharmaceuticals. Thus the youth of America saw their elders popping oceans of pills for relief from the strain of living, so what was wrong with drugs they asked?
The drug culture began to develop. the push was led by marijuana and then on to the harder stuff. Pot found its way into all communities of the US. Screamin’ Big Daddy was born in 1952. He neared maturity as the drug scene was reaching maturity in 1967-70. He just slipped right in. It was easy.
The Immigrant Coalition had defeated the Anglo Nativists by 1950. The Anglo acceptance of the notion of the Melting Pot in which the immigrants were to bend seamlessly into Anglo society gave way to the Jewish concept of Multi-Culturalism in which each nationality was to retain its distinctive culture; except the Anglo minority of course. Anglo customs were portrayed as bad and offensive while immigrant cultures were good and rewarding. I did live through this you know, so no denials.
All the racial and cultural clashes were there; they had to be contained. This was made very difficult by the emergence of the Black culture into the mainstream. While there can be little doubt that the Blacks had been the victims of injustice as an entire group the elimination of those wrongs could only be achieved in both the Black and White minds by the creation of even greater injustices. Upper class Whites were willing to sacrifice lower class Whites to Black rage. Somebody had to pay the bill. Big Daddy was lower class White. Your check, sir.
In the fifties schools began to become living hells as all the destructive forces of society were turned loose in them. Drugs and race antagonism combined to prevent effective education. Until 1956 high school achievement tests had been rising steadily. Beginning in 1957 they began to drop and have continued to do so to this day. Americans, ever unwilling to face the truth, deny that the Black/White conflict has anything to do with it yet the schools have progressed from battlefields to war zones as Black/White tensions increase. Whereas a switch blade was the deadly weapon in the fifties, students now tote automatic pistols in the hallways. They probably need them too.
Belying what they said, affluent White parents tried several end runs around desegration. In Michigan, take Flint for example, the Blacks and Poor Whites were thrown together in the big A schools like Flint Central and Flint Northern while smaller C schools deep within White neighborhoods were created. A few miles further North, Saginaw Blacks were kept on the East side of the river so that Saginaw High was mixed Black and White while Arthur Hill on the West side was all White while still professing great sympathy for the plight of the Blacks.
While Blacks were unable to compete with the Vague Generation on the proverbial ‘level playing field’ they were given preferential treatment to compensate. White students of the lower classes were deprived of what they had earned by hard work so that Blacks could be handed more. Uh, uh, now. I was there.
The result in the minds of lower class Whites like Big Daddy was that while the Blacks were freed they were being enslaved. They could see little justice in transferring injustice toward Blacks to themselves. But they had no recourse, not even the sense to complain.
The manhood of Screamin’ Big Daddy was blunted. He had to, he was compelled, to backpeddle his own abilities before not only Blacks and the immigrant psychology but also to upper class Whites.
Big Daddy tried to recoup his manhood in the obvious way; by screwing other males. In the sexual act of sodomy Big Daddy sought to transfer what was left of the other’s manhood to himself. As a sexual predator he especially preferred Black homosexuals. They were more willing to accord him the role of the Great White Planter. Suffering from their own emasculation they were more than willing to accord him the role.
Events had shaped Screamin’ Big Daddy; Big Daddy had had no hand in the shaping of events. He was Society’s Child. In a different less harsh more kind society he would have been a different man. His was essentially a mind that had been wasted. Yet, also, he would have been a different man had he made different decisions but one should not be overly critical of a man in no man’s land; it’s always easy to make good decisions in the safety of GHQ.
Big Daddy was totally obsessive-compulsive. With an audience he was compelled to tell his story. With a captive audience like Donn, well oiled as he was, he couldn’t be stopped.
‘My whole life’s been screwed up. I’m amazed I’m here. You shoulda been there. I laugh but I don’t think anything was funny. I laugh to keep from crying. I mean, why me? Before my ma left my dad we lived up in Charlevoix where the band is from. That’s in the UP of Michigan. Ever been there? Michigan’s in two peninsulas you see, the Upper and Lower. The state motto is: “If you seek a beautiful peninsula look around you.” Maybe that’s why we have two. I always thought the motto was kinda stupid. Who goes around looking for beautiful peninsulas? ‘Sides that’s kind of like sayin’ if you seek a blue sky look above you. Guy had to be a real genius to lame that one up. We always felt inferior because Minnesota had the motto Land Of 10,000 Lakes on their license plates. Hell, they said, Michgan’s got 12,000 lakes. Only thing is we didn’t have the sense to claim it first; we waited till Minnesota did it. And then we complained about them. So now I’m in Detroit, little kid five years old. My ma doesn’t even bother to get a divorce, she’s still married to my dad. He didn’t have the sense to realize he should have got a divorce. He’s married to someone else now. Bigamist. So, anyway she just leaves, never got one.
Well, after about six months my dad comes down to Detroit and asks my mother to go back to Charlevoix. So he’s hittin’ the bottle just as heavy- Southern Comfort just like me- and battin’ my ma around just as hard, so six months later we’re back in Detroit. So now I put a half year in two different kindergartens. Well, my ma likes ’em rough and crazy. So she’s having these cruds over to the apartment all the time. Sometimes they do it in the livin’ room right in front of me. I don’t mind (Big Daddy lied) because I learn a lot. So, my dad comes down and takes me back to Charlevoix because he get wind and is disgusted with my ma.”
All these events were confused in Big Daddy’s mind. The whole period until the eighth grade was one confused ball of events. The whole period of about seven years had entered Big Daddy’s mind as one event. He was unable to say in which year anything happened, nor are his facts necessarily accurate. His memory was one of discrete events rolled into an amorphous ball. There was no cause and effect.
“So they they start arguing and fighting over me, I’m back and forth all the time going to two maybe three schools a year. That’s why I’m such a good clown, the only way I could get along at all without fightin’ non-stop, not that I didn’t have to fight all the time anyway until I got big which happened fairly early, then they just did things behind my back, drove me crazy. You wonder why I call myself Screamin’ Big Daddy? Hunh! I know tricks, buddy, I know all the tricks. Hate everyone of them mother-fuckers. Kill ’em all I had the chance. Just put all their necks together, wrap a piano wire around ’em and pull tight. I know I won’t get the chance though. Life ain’t fair.
So between the two of ’em, my crazy old man and my whore of a mother, I’d rather be with my mother. But I still spent time with the old drunk or the band wouldn’t be from Charlevoix, hey?
Couldn’t stand Detroit. My ma didn’t have much money. She was more interested in men than work, didn’t have enough sense to charge ’em for it, thought they were all madly in love with her, don’t know how she ever explained to herself why they never came back. So we’re always in border areas between Whites and Blacks, sometimes we’re even over the border. Boy was that hell. When Detroit blew up I threw a couple Molotov cocktails wherever they would land and ran right back to Charlevoix as fast as I can, wait’ll the riots are over.
Of course, high school, shit. How did anybody get out alive. Blacks and Whites, Blacks and Blacks, Whites and Whites. Goddamn fist fights and knife fights goin’ all the time. I don’t know how the girls handled it. If they all didn’t get raped by the bloods at one time or another I’d be surprised. All the time, all the time, all the time, had to watch your back, both sides and your front in every class. Hell, things fell out of the sky. Don’t know how we learned anything. Must have learned everything I know in Charlevoix. By high school I could kick shit out of any of those White pukes so they had to give me respect. Either give it or I’d knock it out of you.
I tell ya about the band? So, I got nothin’ but the sounds to keep me warm. I’m all over that radio every night. Listened to everything, you name it. Ain’t nothin’ I don’t know. Rock, pop, R&B, Country, jass. Man I know groups and singers nobody else in the world ever heard of. They probably don’t remember themselves. I know funky black shit funky blacks don’t know. They’re…”
Big Daddy almost let his true feelings show by saying “…dumb as dogshit.” but his social training asserted itself and he blocked that phrase out. Didn’t want to sound like a bigot.
“…natural, man. It all comes to them from places they don’t know about. They got sources us White guys, all hung up and everything, will never know nothin’ about. Man, just check out Sun Ra or Pharaoh Sanders, you’ll dig what I mean right away.
But, you know back in the early sixties they used to package about a dozen flops in plastic wrap, 45s you know, then they’d put a flop by a big name like Buddy Holly on top where you couldn’t see the other stuff. Used to rip ’em off all the time. I’d go over to one of the clerks and tell ‘im I saw the nerdiest looking guy there stuffing ’em so the clerk would watch him then I take what I want. Had thousands of crummy 45s. And you know most of ’em weren’t that bad as music or songs. I mean, man, they put out thousands of records and maybe only a couple hundred would ever make the radio even once.
So, I mean, man, I learned just about everything there was to know about music. I can play any instrument just have to pick it up fiddle around for a few minutes and I got it. I play sax with the band on the long instrumental breaks, honk that mother like you ain’t never heard. We got a ass kickin’ band. Johnny and Jack is as good a rhythm section as any you find, probably better. Can’t have a good rock band without a solid rhythm section, I figured that out right away. Then we got Charlie on lead guitar, he’s OK, Ira on rhythm and here’s where we really kick ass, Augie Myron, Farfisa. The Farfisa’s a funky little keyboard organ, Augie really puts us over the top, then I really blow ’em away with my vocals and sax. I open every show with this terrific shtick where I start in my highest falsetto then without a break shift right on down to my baritone. Kills ’em every time. We’re a real party band, we clown around a lot but never, never do Johnny and Jack miss a beat, man, never. That’s why we’re top party band anywhere.
Let’s see did I leave anything out? Oh yeah. My so-called college career. I get into Junior College in Detroit, I can’t even bring myself to mention the name, high schools neither, I almost throw up every them I think of it, gag for sure. It was weird, really weird, really was. Like in high school the Blacks and Whites was mixed up all the time but at college it was they disappeared. Half the school was Black but, I mean, like you never saw ’em, not the young one’s anyway. First time in my life I had classes that was all White. Cafeteria was all White, they was there but I don’t where they went.
I mean it was, like, the administration dealt with us separately. It was weird, at the same time they was tellin’ us we were sinners if we didn’t love Blacks and give way before them, they was fightin’ like hell to keep Black studies off of the curriculum at the same time. Never could figure it out.
The music drove the bastards crazy. That and our long hair, the old fucks never could deal with reality. They thought we should be simps just because they were, then when they found out we was too cool they hated us. If it was up to me not a one of those bastards would buried when they die, just leave ’em layin’ on top of the ground for everyone to see how rotten they were, are, is.
So you know from one side they’re tellin’ us about freedom of speech and from the other side they’re tellin’ if we don’t say what they want they’ll make us hurt. Who cares, when you get old you lose, I wanta live fast, die young and leave a beautiful corpse. (Daddy would get two out of three and two out of three ain’t bad.) So they used to stage these mock debates, everything’s mock in America, there ain’t nothin’ real, over whether Blacks are naturally inferior or not, then they wouldn’t invite the Blacks so as not to hurt their feelins. White only affair. Why they did I don’t know because nobody was goin’ around sayin’ Blacks was inferior. Wouldn’t dare, they’d expel anyone who did. So they tap me to take the side about Blacks are naturally inferior.
Oh yeah, but I forgot. First I’m in this political science class where they tell you what to think, you know, party line, why call it education for chrissakes, and I’m next to this old buck, Black guy about forty, so we get this test back, I got a C and this black guy gets a B, but I look over at his paper and see I’ve got a higher score. Well, you know, I can’t take that without a squawk so I point out that if this guy should have a B I should have a A, don’t want to take nothin’ away from the old blood, so this guy, this so-called prof, looks me right in the eye and says that because of the bell curve he’s only got so many As and Bs to hand out, that because this Black guy’s had it tougher than a White guy like me who’s had all this ‘White skin privilege’ he gets a B and I gotta take a C. Bull Shit! I’ve had it plenty tough. If you wanta compare tough with tough I’ve probably had it tougher. I mean, I don’t know whether I’m comin’ or goin’. So this so-called prof says shut up or I’m out of the class. Boy, I am plenty burned, but so what? What can I do about it? Nothin’.
So, then they tap me for this debate, probably because this asshole tells ’em I’m a bigot or something, and I’m told to lay down, take a fall , you know. Fuck that shit! If I’m in it I’m in it to win. So I give ’em holy hell, used statistics and everything, so they order me off the dais right in mid debate and call me in for a chat. I defend myself because, man, I mean, I’ve had enough. They tapped me I didn’t go to them. But then I notice the administration is pretty cool to me and I can’t get good grades no longer. Guys are always challenging me in class, provoking me.
So I wrote this prayer for racial harmony. The only problem was I started out ‘Oh Lord…’ Not only did they bar my poem on religious grounds but when the hailed me before the board as a trouble maker, get this, some Black guy who was a Muslim objected on the grounds that I was talking about a Christian god, he assumes because I’m White I’m a Christian, which discriminated against Allah, and this Jewish guy nods his head in agreement because my prayer might be taken as anti-Semitic on the same grounds.
End of clip Part II-4. Go to clip Part II-5 which is the last clip.