This story takes place in the mid 1970s in Portland, Oregon. About 100 pages.
The Swimming Hole
…the only service to God is not to be evil.
Each man is his own absolute lawgiver, the dispenser of glory or doom to himself, the decreer of his life, his reward, his punishment.
–Idyll Of The White Lotus
Hey, Friend. Wake up! I’m throwing rocks at your windowpane…
Owney Madmun looked across the table at his wife Toni. ‘I’m going to put a swimming pool in the backyard.’ He said emphatically. ‘How about that?’
Owney spoke impetuously as he always did. The notion had occurred to him just then as he looked at a picture of a pool in the Assassin and his mind was firmly made up. It was as though the pool already existed. In his mind it did, without the intervening steps of planning and execution.
‘Just like in the paper here. Solar panels and all. Cutting edge of technology. Save the ecology.’
‘Sounds terrific.’ Toni said, adding a touch of polish to the edge of her nail, third finger, right hand. ‘Let’s get started.’
Toni was Owney’s second marriage; he her third husband. Owney was thirty-five; Toni twenty-eight. She was one of those party girls who traded on their looks. She was much faster than Owney, but she was considered so desirable that in the frenzy to win her third time favors Owney’s financial status had bested several of his fellows. He had the means; Toni had the ways.
She was not strikingly beautiful but she had one of those taut firm, fully packed, well formed bodies, without being overly shapely, that drives some men mad. There was not any real affection between them. Owney had gotten one of the most desirable women of his group while Toni had gotten an ample meal ticket. Owney was a well-to-do nephew. Financially he had been a good catch. Toni, who had no desire at the time to lose a good thing, not having another one ready, deferred to his opinion by habit.
And so Owney nodded over to her and set about to build his pool. There were serious obstacles to the construction of the pool but Owney with his complete lack of intellection gave them no mind, which is just about how much he had to give. His main problem he was told was that his lot was not the right configuration for an economic installation.
Owney’s house was on a hillside lot in Portland, Oregon. He lived in a section called the ‘Cams.’ All the streets in the subdivision began with the syllable Cam after the developer’s son. Cambenic descended from the hillside from the main road which was called Cam. Camelot angled off to the right and down the hill to rejoin Cambenic which had descended and curved around. Cambria crossed Cambenic just before it rejoined Cam. Cambridge Court angled off Cambria. Owney’s lot reached from the upper street, Camelot to the lower street, Cambenic, twenty-five feel below. His house faced the lower street, Cambenic, while the backyard reached up to Camelot. A sharp drop of fifteen feet graded up to his back porch. The lot was inaccessible to the West from his neighbor Brace Harcourt’s lot. To the East, Owney’s house sat less than six feet from the line with Dewey Trueman’s house. Trueman’s house faced Camelot leaving a gap between the backs of the two houses just big enough to drive a truck through.
The sharp drop of Owney’s backyard would have to be terraced. Thus the dirt from the terracing and the excavation of the pool would have to be lifted up to Camelot Street. The catch was the backhoe couldn’t be got down the incline and if down couldn’t be got back up without a crane. Owney was told that the cost would be prohibitive.
Owney thought it could be done cheaper. The hoe and trucks would just fit between the back of his house and Trueman’s. If the equipment was brought up Trueman’s backyard thousands of dollars could be saved. The contractor agreed that the job could be done much more cheaply that way, but he wasn’t sure that Madmun’s neighbor would approve. Owney told them to go ahead, he would take care of it. Owney didn’t bother to consult Trueman because he didn’t think that anything he did was Trueman’s business. Besides, he thought, let him see Trueman try to stop him.
Dewey Trueman awakened from a sound sleep as the grading equipment roared and lurched below his bedroom window onto Madmun’s lot. Dressing, he looked out at Madmun’s presumption. He was indignant that Madmun hadn’t consulted him. While he sat brooding a knock came on his door. He was greeted by Madmun’s contractor.
‘Listen, I’ve been in things like this before and I don’t like it. I don’t want to get started and have to stop.’ He said, beginning in media res.
‘Who are you and what are you talking about?’ Dewey asked with just a trace of irritation. It seemed of late that everyone Dewey talked to spoke in broken disconnected thoughts. One incomprehensible non-sequitur followed another.
‘Who am I?’ said the contractor rearing back incredulously, as though everyone should know him. ‘I’m Owney Madmun’s contractor.’ He said omitting his own name. ‘Say, if you’re not interested I don’t have to tell you. After all, this is for your own benefit.’
Dewey was in a certain amount of turmoil over the trucks plus he hadn’t had his coffee yet. He remained patient in the face of such obtuseness.
‘All right, all right. You’re the contractor who owns the trucks next door? What is it?’ Dewey asked, thinking that he would ask for permission to cross his lot. Dewey had never met Owney. He didn’t even know his name.
‘Well, Owney’s going to build his pump house on your land. I want you to know so you can do what you have to. I don’t want trouble.’
Dewey was dumbfounded. He forget about the trucks. ‘Oh, no. Build on my lot? I’ve never heard of such a thing. You must be mistaken.’
The contractor looked at Dewey indignant that Trueman found his information preposterous. ‘Well, I’m telling you the plans call for him to build the pump house eighteen inches onto your property. there, I’ve told you.’ He finished Oliver Hardy style.
‘Thank-you.’ Dewey replied, still dumbfounded. ‘I’ll talk to him.’
Dewey found it incredible that a man would usurp another’s land. The next day he was standing on Camelot looking down at the lot line. As he studied the layout of the pool it seemed clear that the pump house would definitely have to be right on the property line instead of set back six feet as the law required. Dewey didn’t know that Madmun thought of the law as something to be disregarded or baffled. The law was for other people; Owney’s self interest was lawless. ‘There are no rules.’ He would say reflecting a popular Oregon notion.
‘Well, what do you think?’ Brace Harcourt said, spitting at Trueman’s feet. Harcourt lived on the corner lot where Cambenic and Camelot divided. He was sixty-nine, stood six-four, dyed his hair black but was trim and athletic looking. He had a slight resemblance to Ronald Reagan which he cultivated. He was just retiring from SSSAP, one the bigger advertising firms in Portland. He was contemptuous of and hated Trueman although he knew him in only the most casual way.
Trueman owned the biggest record store in the city, Chrystalship. Dewey spent vast sums on advertising on radio and television all of which he handled himself. Dewey spent more than most car agencies or any of the big retailers. In the retail hierarchy, record stores were classed well below car dealers and retail chains. Dewey was thought presumptuous if not insane. In the envy he aroused it was definitely thought that he was too big for his britches. Retail is as full of penis envy as any other industry. Thus, Solly Valentine’s, a chain with a dozen huge general merchandise and grocery stores in Portland was shifting money from its newspaper advertising onto TV and radio so that the large firm would have a greater electronic presence than Dewey’s much smaller almost miniscule company. In many ways, Dewey’s presence was a bonanza for the electronic media although they were too myopic to see it.
Trueman wrote his own ads, doing the man on camera work. Naturally Harcourt and the people of the other ad agencies despised and belittled Trueman’s work because they thought his account belonged by rights to them.
As Dewey owned a record store, Harcourt believed that Trueman was deep into drugs. At that time it was universally believed that record stores were covers for drug operations. In TV shows the addicts always went into record stores to buy drugs. As on TV so in real life apparently. In actuality one of the refrains in the music business was: ‘Sex, drugs and Rock n’ Roll.’ But neither Dewey or his firm had anything to do with drugs.
Harcourt’s son was something of a ne’er-do-well in his father’s eyes. Harcourt suffered a great disappointment in his son Brice. To explain his disappointment, withour incriminating his own rearing, he invented the story that Brice suffered from brain damage because someone had put drugs in his drink at a party. Not being a clear thinker, but needing a scapegoat, he believed, not thought but sincerely convinced himself, that as Dewey was associated with records and therefore drugs, Dewey was responsible for Brice’s ‘brain damage.’
That was a great leap, for Dewey had not even been in town when Brice suffered his alleged ‘brain damage’ but by the late seventies Americans no longer believed in logic or even validation of their notions. If they thought it, it must be true. In point of fact, Harcourt’s son considered himself an artist and lived what he considered to be the artist’s live. So?
Harcourt spat at Trueman’s feet every time he saw him. Trueman had spoken to him about it previously. Harcourt had been taking barbituates for twenty years ‘to calm his nerves’. The drug had deteriorated his mentality so far that he was unconscious of spitting. Since he was not conscious of doing it, he was even capable of denying it with the evidence before him. Trueman had no choice but to think him the most brazen of liars.
Trueman pretended he hadn’t heard Harcourt distinctly.
‘What’s that Mr. Harcourt?’ He said with some irritation but politely in defference to the other’s age, but definitely, he thought, not his merit. As he held Harcourt in some contempt he refused to call him by the nickname Harcourt preferred. He liked to be called the Big B, or just B. Dewey thought the guy was so insolent he should have been a waiter.
‘I said, what do you think? Open up your eyes. boy.’ Brace said naming the wrong organ.
‘I see you’re as irascible as ever old buck. I think it’s going to cost him lots of money with little return. How many days a year can you use a pool in Portland? Two?’
‘Oh, that. I dont’ mean that.’ Harcourt replied, sneering down his nose at Trueman.
‘Well, Mr. Harcourt, you don’t really think I can read your mind, do you?’ Trueman asked. ‘What then?’
‘I see your dirt is being spilled all over you.’
Dewey was confused by the reference. He thought Harcourt was referring to the excavation.
‘Uh, well, I’ll talk to him about it, Harcourt.’
‘Him? You mean them.’
‘Them? Them who, Harcourt? What the hell are you talking about?’
‘The paper. The paper, boy. They’re showing you up for the crook I always knew you were.’ Truculently spilled from Harcourt’s mouth.
Dewey blew out his breath bringing his hand to the back of his to work out the riddle.
‘The paper? Do you mean the Daily Assassin and that story a couple weeks ago? What about it?’
‘Using lie detectors is against the law, boy. Guilty, you’re guilty, just like I always thought so.’
Dewey passed his hand from the back of his head across his face as the whole unpleasant two or three years of confrontation jumbled through his mind nearly undecipherable in its compressed psychic code. He had only the most meager notion of how to intrepret the whirling maelstrom of events.
The story Brace Harcourt referred to had been printed by the Assassin two weeks previously. A year before the State legislature had passed a law forbidding the use of polygraphs by private agencies. Trueman had employed an agency for employee testing prior to the law. In an effort to live up to its name the Assassin was making an effort to assassinate his character. The paper had printed the story about his use of polygraphs without making clear when.
The Daily Assassin was now the sole paper in town. It was the result of the combination of the Oregon Daily Hatchet and the Portland Daily Assassin. the Hatchet was named in reference to George Washington, who, with his trusty hatchet in hand couldn’t tell a lie.
The ownership, which was in New York, shied away from calling the combination paper the Daily Hatchet-Assassin, in which name there was a certain amount of ironic humor and truth. They settled on the Oregon Daily Assassin which most accurately reflected the attitude or Mingo Miybriy, its editor.
Mingo believed it was her responsiblity to assassinate the character of anyone who failed to meet her standard of political correctness. All was done in the spirit of the biblical promise to the Israelites: I will bless them that bless thee and curse them that curse thee- or fail to bless thee.
The article had been written by a lesbian to anathematize Trueman who had run afoul of the homosexual community. Not only was the Assassin pro homosexual but their quarrel with Trueman had further ramifications. Trueman was on the list of persons to be given the silent treatment because of the social unacceptability of his Hippie background and his association with the record business.
Even more fundamental was his refusal to advertise in the paper. Trueman had put all his advertising dollars into the electronic media which did a terrific job for him. The Assassin was aware that Castle Records in San Francisco ran a double truck every Sunday in the Chronicle. This represented a very nice piece of change. They projected the same scenario for themselves and Chrystalship.
The Daily Assassin was now a monopoly. In the best of circumstances they were arrogant, haughty and condescending. In addition their obvious contempt for Trueman was so insulting that he coudn’t do business with them and maintain his self-respect.
The electronic media were competetive, sympathetic to the product and more attentive to his needs. Trueman had no need for the paper’s services so he treated them as contemptuously as they treated him. They being the larger business found him merely presumptuous. The management seethed in resentment. They longed for his store to be replaced by Castle which was aggressively expanding across the country. While it would be extreme to say that the paper could put him out of business it was in their power to assassinate his character. Their story was slanderous with criminal intent. It had obviously been successful.
The story had its origins in events beginning three years earlier. These years were as tumultuous as any in the tumultuous history of the United States. Fostered by the immigrant past of America every ethnic group, social group or even viewpoint was operating with autonomous desires. In varying degrees they attempted to operate as entities above the law of the land. In other words they attempted to transfer the determination of justice from the many to the few.
The attitude would become most clearly expressed with the anti-abortionists of the nineteen-eighties and nineties during which individuals took it upon themselves to assassinate doctors who performed abortions. These people were still capable of claiming to be against capital punishment. Their argument was the hoary one that ‘God’s’ law is higher than man’s law.
In the same manner lesbians and homosexuals began to twist society and law to meet their specific needs as opposed to general needs. They declared themselves a minority that in some manner was being deprived of its rights. Not a clear argument but it passed. Following the Jewish model of the Anti-Defamation League of B’nai B’rith they began to intimidate publishers and broadcasters who wrote or spoke unapprovingly of homosexuality. They began the process of choking off objective study of homosexuality.
Homosexuals are men. There is no physical difference between homosexual and heterosexual men. Homosexuals figure among shot-putters and football linemen. They number powerful businessmen, judges and lawyers. They are quite capable of taking care of themselves without special protective legislation.
In the act of soliciting sexual favors from heterosexual men they are sometimes punched out. But then a man who called a policeman because he had his ass grabbed would be thought ridiculous or unmanly. The manly thing is to punch one’s assailants lights out. A very large percentage of homos are masochists, which is a psychological corollary of violation, who desire a beating. If it may be said that heterosexual men have an unreasoning hatred of homosexuals then the reverse is also true. As the Bible says of Ishmael, his hand is raised against every man and every man’s against him. To enfranchise one group of men over the other is to tilt the playing field. If homosexuals can’t compete on a level field they should stay on the sidelines.
Contrary to these public declarations homosexuals are not discriminated against unless they adopt a weird persona, wear dresses or speak like Marilyn Monroe. Most people are unconcerned about sexual orientation so that it is impossible for them to distinguish homosexuals.
Homosexuals thus form a species of secret society. They are, in fact, a brotherhood. To be a brother in good standing is absolutely essential. Thus one’s independence is destroyed; one must conform or face ruin as one can have no sex life having made oneself inaccessible to women. Of course, there’s always sheep. In the work place the heterosexual functions as an independent individual. One or the other group must control the work place and establish its mores. The homosexual brotherhood having solidarity must easily gain control of the workplace.
Even though forced to be covert, history is replete with homosexuals in every line of endeavor. The arts are an especially favorable field for homosexuals. Especially the record business.
Homosexuals came out of the closet in 1969. the open practice of homosexuality progressed rapidly to enter what is called the Candy Store Era of homosexualtity. By the late seventies before AIDS choked it off the Candy Store Era was in full swing. Being a ‘guy’ was openly indicated.
During the sixties many record performers began to hint that they were homosexuals, or, at least bi-guys which as an intermediate step was considered more acceptable. Such nonsense as: ‘Why should I exclude one half the world from my bed?’ was prevalent. Earrings began to appear on men. The outre clothing fashions of the Hippies lent cover to garb not so discreetly feminine. There was an effort made to make skirts acceptable for men.
By the late sixties artist’s began to discreetly acknowledge the truth. By the mid-seventies it was openly proclaimed; by the late seventies proudly so.
The unalterable fact of the matter is that homosexuality disgusts and revolts men who aren’t homosexual and, more importantly, those who refuse to acknowledge their own infirmity.
As the seventies progressed the vitality which had characterized Rock n’ Roll began to fade away. As it did homosexual entertainers came to the fore as heterosexual interest faded. Groups began to simulate fellatio on stage. This in turn drove heterosexual men away in disgust. At the same time overtly homosexual Disco music began its rise driving Rock n’ Roll into further eclipse. Thus the record market was decidedly tilted toward the homosexual influence.
Homosexuality is a psychotic reaction to sexual abuse. The victim is psychologically emasculated. Hence homosexuality is expressed in gross pornographic imagery and practice.
Because mankind never wishes to assume responsibility for its actions an objection may be raised to the notion of psychotic reaction. Early in man’s development the belief was that the stars guided men’s actions. When the astrological theory became untenable people wished to believe that their anti-social actions were caused by possession by evil spirits. Demons, or the devil made them act against their inclinations. Society even went so far as to empower people to exorcise the demons.
When science came to the fore after the Great Revolution, the idea that man himself was responsible for his actions became dominant. The science of psychology developed the notion that man could alter his behavior by plumbing the depths of his psyche.
This view caused an extreme reaction as people rejected the notion of personal responsibility. Oddly enough science was called into play to nullify its own discovery. Anti-social behavior was caused, some said, by brain tumors. Failing brain tumors, then a chemical imbalance in the brain.
Recently these theories have been thrown overboard in favor of genetics. Genetics is a tough, imprecise field. No one can actually prove that genes influence behavior; no one can actually disprove it at present. To placate the skeptics believers claim that the defective A1 gene has to be activated by an objective event. Once activated, of course, it can’t be deactivated. Not even by chemicals that might restore the balance. One accepts the theory on faith or not.
The believers claim that psychotic behavior such as alcoholism, homosexuality and criminality is caused by the defective A1 gene. Thus from the stars to the A1 gene man refuses to accept responsibility for the inability to control himself.
Nevertheless homosexuality is expressed through a violent demeaning attitude toward sex. This attitude began to dominate the record industry by 1976. The attitude was perfected when the Disco rage took over the industry, dominating it for several years. Songs celebrated homosexuality. Whole records celebrated it. Homosexuals still couldn’t show it on the beach but they could do it on record covers. The gay group, The Village People put out a twenty minute song entitled: The YMCA which coyly celebrated the homosexual joys to be found there. Oddly enough the Y never called for the record to be suppressed which they certainly had the right to do. The Beegee’s recorded the double entendre: More Than A Woman To Me. Sly and obscure enough to go unrecognized except by the initiated.
The Headhunters were on the move. Nowhere was the aggressive attitude more explicit than on the cover art. Giorgio Moroder who, had been using the Black woman, Disco Donna Summer, as a cover for his projections, stepped into the open issuing records under his own name. His ‘Knights In White Satin’ threw down the gauntlet for the straight males of the world. The cover art featured Moroder fronting a bunch of ‘guys’ dressed in white satin lounging around a gleaming white toilet. The toilet is the focal point of the homosexual ideology.
During the Candy Store Era public baths became gathering places for homosexuals. Essentially large toilets Portland had at least two of them. Thus anytime night or day a lonely homo could joust with fellows in the toilet.
The symbolism of ‘Knights In White Satin’ is clear. In the Arthurian corpus Lancelot, the most formidable knight of his or any day, issues forth from under the lake dressed in white satin on a white charger with white accoutrements. White is Gnostic symbolism for the color of purity and grace. The Wonder Rabbis of eighteenth century Neo-Hasidism also wore white satin as chosen and leaders of the chosen. Thus Moroder was saying that homosexuals were the best men preferred by God. The Homosexual Revolution was on.
But, in point of fact, homosexuals are only the chosen losers. When they were emasculated as children or during the course of their lives they became dominated. They had been compelled to submit. The humiliation of submission, forced submission, is too much for their psyches. Hence they turn to a vicious brutal attempt to reverse their roles. Within the brotherhood ‘boys’ and ‘girls’ practice sado-masochistic rites.
Among heteros, with whom they cannot compete they wage interminable warfare. Unable to confront masculinity they lie, sneak and cheat hoping to gain the upper hand by subterfuge. Since they cannot hope to win on their own merits they seek the State to give them a handicap in laws which suppress the superiority of heteros. They seek a handicap that makes heteros submit and allows homosexual dominance.
As emasculated men they can no longer act as whole men. Thus they love the very idea of manhood which they have been denied. They study men; watch them, bringing all the most admirable traits together in an impossible cartoon image of manhood. Thus the Village People posed as ‘macho men.’ They adopted stage personae of the most virile men; but they were merely actors playing a role.
While the knights of old sought dominance by charging across the greensward with their lances leveled to sink the point in another’s flesh so Moroder and his brotherhood charged across the toilet with a different lance leveled to sink it in their brother’s flesh. Headhunters shoulder jousted down the street trying to prove their dominance of others by walking into them if they didn’t step aside. Defective A1 genes or mental disturbance?
Cover designs frequently accentuated the sado-masochistic elements of this dominance-submission. the fire down below expressed the sickness above. Homo separate themselves into ‘boys’ and ‘girls.’ Male dominance over female submission in its most brutal form. Thus a Disco Donna Summer was a surrogate for Disco Giorgio Moroder when homoseuxal songs refer to girls they mean submissive men. Women on cover art are surrogates for men. When they are meant to be women they stand with ardent longing around a male who ignoring them altogether has no use for them. ‘Boys’ are more than a woman to him,
By one of those twists of fate Pilgrim’s Center in which Trueman’s store was located was on Stark St. The homosexual center of Portland was on a wedge of streets that began where Stark and Burnside met at Twelfth St. widening as it approached the river. Most of the homo hangouts were in this wedge. The Great Gotham Hotel anchored the wedge on the triangular block that began it. The Gotham had been converted into a bath house of which the toilet was the community room. God help the hetero who stumbled into the place to stay or eat at the restaurant.
Just up the street was The Mama Tried. Across the street was the Darby Ram. Both were homosexual restaurants and bars. Above the Pilgrim Center between West and East Park was Daddy Cool’s on the corner. An empty space, which was soon to be filled inervened. next to that was the Black Bottom, a place owned by a little Black guy about five feet four who went by the name of Jimmy Jack Speedo. Another hangout, the Bottom Half was up on Yamhill and East Park.
The Pilgrim’s Center and Chrystalship were thus in the Homosexual center of the city. Concomitant with the ‘coming out’ of the homosexuals was the coming out of lesbians. Even if they couldn’t show it on the beach they could demonstrate anywhere. Suddenly two girls would stop in the middle of Dewey’s store and begin tounging each other for long slobbery minutes. The lesbians too were looking for a fight. They needed some way to draw sympathy for their psychological infirmity.
The femininst movement was at one of its historic peaks. The women’s movement was sensitive about how women were portrayed in art. The enemy to the homosexuals, the lesbians and the women’s movement was the hetorosexual male in lesbian minds. While censoring references to themselves they felt free to voice the most bigoted sentiments about whole men or even balanced women.
Thus, while the sado-masochistic cover art was perpetrated by homosexual interests, heterosexual men were blamed for it by the lesbians.
Trueman, who really loved the record business, watched with dismay as the homosexual element with their pornographic approach to cover art came to dominate the industry. He was already in an unhappy frame of mind when the storm burst directly over his head. The lesbian sisterhood chose to make cover art a social issue.
They needed a vehicle to bring their plaint to the fore. Both Trueman and Chrystalship loomed large in their minds. Sex, drugs and records filled the void of their minds. They identified Trueman with the ‘ruling class.’ They neither knew of his origins as an orphan, the least privileged of any caste, nor did they understand that he was an outlaw with no status with the privileged class. When Trueman had told one of these beat up femmies of his origins he had been called a liar because, as she said, he couldn’t have built the business he had if he had come from an orphan’s background.
His supposed prominence and the size and actual prominence of his store made him the natural target. Dewey’s own attitude as the matter developed was more confrontational than diplomatic. He gave what he had gotten in life. Neither attitude would have mattered as the former would have exacerbated the situation and the latter circumvented it. The only possible solution with bigots is submission. The situation was so far from the American ideals of his youth that he was incapable of putting things into a historical or social context. His original conciliatory attitude soon developed into a confrontational one which set the tone of the dispute.
The mere frustration of their wishes was enough to drive the lesbians to extreme measures. They decided to begin gently with Dewey. Over the course of a few weeks various lesbians stopped Dewey in the store to complain about certain record covers. Dewey could, and genuinely tried, to sympathize with them. He didn’t like the direction cover art was going either, but for different reasons. When they insisted, he would give the reasonable counter that this was a world he never made; he wasn’t present at the creation and no one had asked his opinion since.
They thought Dewey was part of the ‘white male power structure.’ In their minds he was indued with great powers. Dewey was amazed that they thought he was capable of having the covers withdrawn. Dewey tried to patient with them. He explained that he, too, didn’t like a lot of the covers, not necessarily the ones they objected to. He showed them the Giorgio Moroder cover which offended him greately but bothered them not at all. He showed them several other homosexual and lesbian covers. He showed them the selection of Olivia records. The Olivia label was a lesbian label with lesbian lyrics and photos. He tried to explain to them that America was a land of free speech which protected the right of all to express any point of view. He tried to explain…
But they were narrow and single minded in their zeal and bigotry. They pointed out that he could refuse to sell records of which they disapproved. He pointed out that homosexuals themselves were designing the covers. Many homosexuals were part of the ‘White male power structure’ as were many lesbians. He tried to show them that the world was not a heterosexual plot against homosexuals. He pointed out that it would be suicide for him to refuse to stock the records that they or any other group might object to. He pointed out…oh, but it goes on and on. Reason cannot influence bigotry.
Finally the lesbians began to mutter about ‘justice.’ Dewey pointed out that the law was on his side. ‘Law! Law! We’re talking about justice man, not Law!’
Justice in a well ordered state is the prerogative of the state not individuals or sub-cultures. But, at this time in American history sub-cultures frustrated with the greater culture began taking ‘justice’ into their own hands. They became vigilante lynch mobs.
They also wanted maximum publicity for their beliefs, none for the other. So, one night between ten and twelve, Linda Delmurkwasser and two confederates entered the store. Linda, like a female Charles Manson, supervised as the others slashed a hundred offending covers with criss-cross designs using nail files and left, smiling triumphantly at the lesbian behind the counter who gave them the high sign.
Over the years Dewey as a retailer had to deal with many inexplicable occurrences such as razor blades concealed among the records or tear gas sprayed into the air conditioning vents. Retailers are compelled to suffer an endless list of such petty but potentially dangerous crimes. Spiteful religious people had been mashing half eaten ice cream cones between records for months. In the crush of happenings when Dewey had the covers pointed out to him he marked it down as yet one more bizarre occurrence and forgot about it.
The lesbians had expected Dewey to go to the p0lice so that they could make a row about the covers. Sure that the action would be top news they had planned to step forward, explain their terrorist action and vindicate their cause before the world. This could be big, they thought.
When nothing happened they printed an account of in the Sapphite, their monthly paper. Linda Delmurkwasser, who doubled as an agent provocateur for the police as well as being a lesbian had already informed the police. She now brought the article to their attention pointing out that this time the lesbians had gone too far. While the police had a benign attitude toward infra community crimes, perhaps because the lesbian article boasted of taking ‘justice’ into their own hands, which was an infringement of the police prerogative, they thought to offer Trueman a hand.
Linda Delmurkwasser was also a reporter for the Daily Assassin. In her role as double agent she would be able to give the lesbian views maximum exposure in the event of legal action. A Sergeant Pappas called Trueman to advise him that they had read the article.
‘Now,’ he chuckled, ‘we can only let you people go so far before these things get out of hand. So, we can take action in this instance against those lesbians if you want it.’
Trueman was well aware that he had been outlawed. The police did more to hurt than help him. Any offer of assistance from the police made him suspicious. He ran through the bag of tricks looking for the setup. He couldn’t imagine one besides he had completely forgotten the incident. He told Sergeant Pappas that the incident had never happened, no matter what the Sapphite said. Pappas was dumbfounded. They thought he was lying but couldn’t understand why he was protecting the lesbians.
Linda Delmurkwasser was also disappointed. She sat down, tapped the table with the fingernails of her right hand twice as a new plan entered her head. She had connections at KGRU radio. It was the gangbuster number one station at the time. KGRU Radio was staffed predominantly with lesbians and homosexuals.
Trueman, in his conversations around the station discussed record covers in the terms of artwork. Moderns always disparage the present in favor of the past. His opinion was therefore disparaged. But, he pointed out, the art of the past has been presorted for moderns. The worst had disappeared into the trashcan of history; only the best has survived. The thrill of the present, he would say, waxing enthusiastic, is that some is good, some bad, some in better taste, some worse. The joy of it all is sorting through the material to select that which is best, or at least, to your taste. Besides, he would say, there is such a flood of material that little of it will be remembered no matter how high the quality and the quality was high indeed. So much was being done today that was equal to or better than anything done in the past. In Philistia his notions flew right over the heads of his listeners who believed that anything in the past was better than anything in the present. Trueman was willing to expound on the subject to anyone who would listen. The boy did like to talk.
Linda was sitting around the New Improved Granny’s Sewing Circle and Enlightened Cafe snorting a few lines when several lesbians from KGRU came in. They greeted each other and began discussing the problems of the exploitation of women by men which soon turned to the portrayal of women as sex objects in art which devolved to record covers. Dewey and his beliefs entered the conversation. The notion of making a news item of cover art occurred simultaneously to each. It was a true group epiphany.
KGRU news, or a ‘roving’ human interest team, called Trueman explaining that they wanted to do a special on cover art. His store was perfectly arranged for such a TV story. Unlike most record stores which shove bins against the walls, Trueman’s bins were in the center of the store. Shelves seven feet high lined his walls displaying a thousand albums face out.
Trueman was neither blind, stupid or slow. He knew that the station was heavily homosexual. He was aware of the lesbians’ attitude t0ward the covers. As he was under a ban of ‘dynamic silence’ from the establishment he knew that something was afoot to discredit him. But, if they wanted to film record covers, he told them to go ahead.
Dewey knew exactly what they would do. When the crew entered they immediately focused on the cover the lesbians thought was most controversial. The record, which had a very tame cover, was Montrose’s Jump On It. The cover featured a coy abstract design that could be interpretated as part of the midriff and thighs of a human being. Or it could be interpreted as a two dimensional abstract design. It could also be interpreted as a derriere and thighs. The content was actually provided by the title and one’s prurient imagination.
Artists being the quirky little tricksters they are had merely provided an implied sexual innuendo, there was no indication that the design represented a woman. Homosexuals were very busy at the time putting all kinds of ambiguous designs on covers that at first glance seemed to be women’s anatomy. One’s prurient interest aroused, on closer inspection the picture would turn out to be the juncture of a man’s arm and chest upside down made to look like cleavage. Thus supposedly the sexual line between male and female was obliterated. The picture ‘proved’ that a man could be aroused by another man. This was real locker room stuff; women were not invited. Unwilling to be duped, when Dewey looked at the Montrose cover he saw a picture of only colors and a two dimensional abstract design. Ideologically one could see a unisex crotch.
The TV crew was lesbian and homosexual. As Dewey stood watching Linda Delmurkwasser motioned him over.
‘Dewey? It is Dewey, isn’t it?’ She said pretending not to know so as not to have to acknowledge his existence. ‘Come over here, Dewey, and give us some of your comments on this here ‘art.’ Linda was one of those egocentrics who thought that if she didn’t like it it wasn’t art.
Dewey had a policy to never be on camera when he couldn’t control the content. He was certainly not going to offer himself as a sacrifical lamb to this crew.
‘You don’t think I’m going to be on camera with you, do you?’ He asked staring absentmindedly across the store reciprocating Linda’s disrespect.
‘Yes, oh yes. We want you and your opinions as the important element of this picture.’ Delmurkwasser cooed in that lesbian parody of feminine coquetry. It is interesting that homos and lesbians who are reacting to the same characteristic in men evidence their reaction in opposite ways. They both worship the idea of manhood. Homos despise themselves but are capable of an adoring caricature that is better than the original while lesbians despise women rejecting all their ways in favor of a manly style they cannot obtain. Dewey smiled at Linda’s parody of of a coquette.
‘No, no, no.’ Dewey replied. ‘Photograph whatever you like but I’m not going on camera. I thought you had your own story written.’
‘Well, then, this won’t work.’
‘I guess not.’
Frustrated again the lesbians lost their ability to concentrate. No new ideas were forthcoming. Then one Saturday night Linda, Casey Wingit and Donna Dancin, two newsperson women from KGRU, were at the Disco Deep Elum where they ran into Clint Devery, the morning jock on KGRU.
Newsperson women may seem like a gross redundancy, which it is. First the sexual revolution demanded unisex titles, so newsperson replaced newsman and newswoman. Then sexual preferences reasserted themselves. Unable to go back to ‘sexist’ newsman or newswoman the term was strung out to newsperson guy or woman. Thus language is corrupted by well-intentioned stupidity.
Disco Deep Elum was the largest, fanciest disco in Portland. Discos were the bacchic churches of homosexuals. There they could party, revel and show it till the cows came home, provided they come home before 2:00 AM when the state liquor laws take effect.
The central feature was, of course, the giant ball of mirrors rotating in a dazzling display of lights. The layout was a large square thirty feet high. The dance floor curved from right to left with the tables on the perimeter out to the walls. The disc jockey and his nonstop multiple turntables were in the right back corner amid a blaze of spotlights.
As homosexuality is centered on dominance and submission the men’s toilet was given fantastic prominence. This was a toilet that homosexual dreams are made of. The toilet door was high on the right wall fifteen fleet above the floor. A long narrow rampway, not wide enough for two abreast led from behind the turntables up to the toilet door. Banks of spotlights illuminated the ramp. The ramp and toilet was the focal point of Disco Deep Elum. It was where the real action was.
The game of dominance and submission was played out on the ramp. When a ‘knight in white satin’ went to the toilet another knight might take it in his mind to challenge him. When the first knight came out of the toilet the challenger raced up the ramp. One or the other party must give way in those shoulder jousts or a confrontation must result. Thus to the thudding of one hundred twenty beats to the minute, that’s two beats per second, in the full glare of hundreds of spotlights the ‘better’ man vanquished the other before the whole Disco Deep Elum. This was the real show. A ‘manly’ pecking order was established. Here was the very essence of genetic A1 homosexuality.
Linda, Casey and Donna were snorting lines bought from one of the numerous dealers in the place- you’ve got to get up to get down, disco buddy- and talking about things to Clint when their frustration over record covers came up yet again. Clint had a fecund mind to go with his sense of justice. He had just about finished explaining to them how a row could be got up by picketing Chrystalship when there was an uproar on the toilet ramp.
Terry Trenkar had seen Billy Botman head up the ramp to the toilet. They were both macho men of good size. ‘I’m going to show that guy’s chicken shit.’ Trenkar muttered under his breath. Bill Bailey at the turntables picked up the on the incipient psychodrama with the telepathy of a born irritator. His adrenalin soared. As the previous record had ended he picked up a tape he had set to a disco beat of ‘Big Balls In Cow Town’ by the great Bob Wills. As Trenkar grabbed the rail and pulled himself up his first few steps, Bailey set the already high volume up a notch. At this signal all eyes turned toward the ramp.
Bill Botman came out of the toilet to be surpised by Trenkar coming up the ramp like a steamroller for the shoulder joust. Botman wasn’t going to give way. He edged over into Trenkar as they slammed together. ‘Big Balls In Cowtown’ was turned up another thundering notch as Botman and Trenkar grappled fifteen feet above the floor now featured along with the music and dancing.
With a heave Trenkar raised Botman up and thrust him over the rail. Botman grabbed the lapels of Trenkar’s shirt trying to pull him over too. Bailey turned the volume up yet again. The mirror ball began to quiver as well as rotate sending shafts of spectrums in every direction. The struggle assumed titanic proportions in the intense noise and light. Trenkar pulled back his fist to belt Botman. As he did so Botman let go of one lapel to grab hold of Trenkar’s abundant hair. He took a fist in the head as he put his weight into pulling Trenkar over. Trenkar’s scream as his scalp tore loose from his skull was lost in the pounding thud of one hundred twenty to the minute. He involuntarily pitched over the railing landing head first with what would have been a sickening thud if it could have been heard. It was eerie. You knew there was noise from the scuffle but the volume cut you off from reality.
Botman who was wearing cowboy boots landed on the side of his heel giving his ankle a violent twist. Looking over at Trenkar in the thunder whose head was crushed into the floor butt in air, Botman thought he was dead. Rising to his feet Botman hobbled out of Deep Elum as fast as he could go.
In the sequel Trenkar who had lost fair and square, so to speak, refused to abide by the result of the trial by combat. He appealed to the homo community for sanctions against Botman. As the spectacle had been performed under lights before the world the community just told him to get lost. Trenkar then tried legal charges but strange to say there were no witnesses. It ain’t easy being a macho guy.
Their plans having been formulated Linda, Casey, Donna and Clint issued out into the street as Bill Bailey played a mix of his own of Lonnie Donegan’s Dixie Darlin’ and the Beatles Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds set to the one-twenty beat. He called the result, Disco Darlin’. He had only combined other people’s creative efforts but with cool effrontery he considered himself the creative equal of the incomparable Lonnie Donnegan and The Beatles. Unfortunately Bill was way too far out ahead of the crowd that night. His effort failed with a thud and a half.
Outside Clint and the girls stood watching as the ambulance carted the ‘Knight In White Satin’ away.
‘Wow, wasn’t that terrific?’ Donna shouted in awed tones her ear drums still numbed by the volume inside.
‘Yeah. I never guessed it would end that way.’ Casey yelled as though she had been watching a TV show.
‘Yeah, man! Deep Elum’s a boffo place. You can always count on action like that.’ Clint finished.
Dewey was driving to work the following Saturday when Clint Devery announced during the news break that there would be a lesbian desmonstration against Chrystalship beginning at noon.
‘That’s not news!’ Dewey said aloud. ‘You can’t announce riots before they happen. That’s incitement. Besides I didn’t pay for that announcement.’
Dewey knew Devery from having taped his radio commercials at KGRU. He stopped at the station to get an explanation. Devery contemptuously and silently shrugged off Dewey’s question. There is little you can do in such a rebuff. If you get angry your anger will be used against you. Devery was expert in homosexual confrontations, but he…oh, that’s another story. Devery had the advantage and the microphone. Had Dewey pleaded with him he would only have demeaned himself. Whatever he did he could only draw the chuckle. Trueman had already gratified Devery by responding to the message. He merely turned and walked away. Devery leaned out the door of his cage watching Dewey’s retreating figure. He reached down and gave his penis a little loving squeeze as he emitted a squeal of delight because, in his mind, he had triumphed over Trueman’s manhood and asserted his own.
But forewarned is forearmed. Dewey knew what they wanted. He worked out three probable scenarios. He knew that they didn’t have a news story; no one really cared what lesbians thought of record covers. He knew that on TV he would get more sympathy than not. At best lesbians represented a small fraction of women’s opinion even if they had captured the women’s movements and spoke as if they talked for all. As a non-person Dewey knew the authorities would never let the story reach the tube. Too much free advertising. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and be cool.
But Dewey had emotional problems of his own. The psychological compression of his childhood experience had begun to decompress rapidly at the first sign of his success. Dewey had had his orginal personality murdered on the recess yard in the second grade. The patchwork personality he had put together amid the constant psychological battering from second grade to graduation was rapidly deteriorating. Dewey was aware of this and aiding the process. He was working desperately to regain his original personality or develop a suitable alternative new personality.
The constant battering he was taking as an outlaw was taking its toll. He knew that whatever he gained something would be lost. He was prepared to gain himself if he lost the world.
He was intelligent and incredibly tough mentally but alone in what might be described as behind enemy lines. The only thing that would make the lesbians’ demonstration would be a visual confrontation between the demonstrators and himself. He wouldn’t leave his store.
The demonstration was more wish than reality.
There were only half a dozen lesbians who showed up to protest. Linda Delmurkwasser and her friends who had jobs to protect watched from across the street and down the block. Only one cameramen and one sound man from KGRU were used. They intended to overdub commentary at the studio.
The six who showed waved their signs and chanted but to their dismay they were totally ignored It was, it is, very difficult for homosexuals and lesbians to generate sympathy except in the abstract. No one wants to go ‘queer.’
Many women were openly contemptuous. Some who had no intention of entering the store did so in spite. There were many who thought the demonstration was merely a publicity stunt of Trueman’s. Frustrated outside the demonstrators decided to invade the store.
The store was very busy as it always was on Saturdays. As a good field marshall Clint Devery had several knights in the store alert to the situation who would have the advantage of directing the flow of events. As anonymous operatives their homosexuality concealed their acts would appear as disinterested or nonpartisan if anyone actually noticed what they were doing in the confusion.
Dolly Vargas burst into the store, threw her sign on the floor, climbed up on a rack wearing a house dress worn over levis with big combat boots to begin declaiming; ‘Listen people…’ People being the magic word that unites all ‘right thinking’ people behind the orator. ‘Listen, people, do you know you’re supporting sexism?’ She screamed over the loud speakers from which bellowed the Rolling Stones ‘Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown.’
In point of fact the customers couldn’t relate buying their favorite records with sexism. Most of them thought they were watching a promotional stunt as Dewey was considered to be a publicity hound. Had Dewey been dispassionate the knowledge would have been cold comfort for it was publicity he did not seek.
Dewey was at the other end of the store from Dolly. As he turned at the sound of her voice, Bobbye Dorley rushed through the left entrance behind him to push him hard in the back. She was followed by the cameraman hoping for a violent response from Trueman. When Dewey turned the first thing he saw was the cameraman. Dewey knew that the cameraman would know his responsibilities. As politely as he could with Bobbye clawing at him he asked the cameraman to leave. A request isn’t an order so the cameraman smiled and filmed on. Dewey ordered him to leave. An order is something to be resisted. The cameraman began to give Dewey an argument when a coordinator understanding the jeopardy to the station grabbed him by the arm directing him to the door.
Turning back, Dewey found Bobbye Dorley screaming insults into his face. Dewey sensed the presence of Devery’s Headhunters more than identified them. He could practically feel their hands on him as he tried to back away from Dorley. He kept his hands at his sides as he knew that if he raised them he would be blindsided to the floor by one of Devery’s anonymous terrorists. After that who would know.
His requests to his employees to call the police were ignored. Dewey managed to extricate himself from Dorley so that he got into the back to call the police.
The police, who were observing just down the block, were prompt. Asked to leave the lesbians refused. They insisted that the store was a public place. Perhaps, but a riot is illegal anywhere. They refused to listen to the policeman’s explanation that a store is not a public place but only open to those wishing to do business there. Order was restored only when the police began threatening to arrest any who wouldn’t leave.
The lesbians, who arrogated justice to their affliction, found any opposition unjust. Opposition was not a difference of opinion in their minds but a willful disregard of justice, never mind law. Thus they believed that Trueman and the police were in criminal collaboration to defeat their idea of justice. Trueman was condemned in their system of justice as an inveterate and willful malefactor. As he would not bend to their will he became in their eyes an ‘arch-homophobe.’ Work on the implications of that word for a while. As a criminal homophobe Trueman must be punished. Trueman was therefore entered on the homo and lesbian blacklist as an enemy. Borrowing ideology from the Jewish network they would bless them that blessed them and curse them who wouldn’t bless them.
Trueman was already blacklisted by both the Old Boy and Jewish Networks. All his efforts would now by thwarted by the Homosexual Network. The word was put out to harass him at every step. Ordinarily his picture would be put out and he would be tailed so that wherever he went the tail would notify his contacts that Trueman’s requests should be frustrated as much as possible. As Trueman was on TV the picture was not necessary as everyone could recognize him on sight. An eye for an eye. If he would frustrate their efforts then they would frustrate his. Hate is such a terrible thing. Don’t you agree?
The homosexual and lesbian network was a formidable network. A member must comply or be expelled. Homosexuals and lesbians are distributed throughout society in every profession and on every social level. They function as a secret society. Even if one could identify each one there would be no way to defend oneself as, along with Blacks, Jews and Women they have arrogated to themselves the role of the innocent victim. Legal and social prejudices are in their favor. In the workplace they can and do create infinite difficulties for ‘homophobes.’ Bear in mind that all that is necessary to be classed as a homophobe is to be neutral. With the current advances in technology there is nowhere in the world that one can evade the toils of the homosexual or any other network.
Dewey soon found that his difficulties increased to the point where it was impossible for him to get good service. He was treated most disrespectfully at all restaurants, waiter staffs being entirely homosexual. Urine, feces, spit, semen and drugs were placed in his food and drink. He began to be sick the day after eating out. He resorted to making reservations under assumed names which did him no good as he was easily recognized at sight.
The Old Boy Network had been tampering with his cars for years. He had bought a car from Leuni Cadillac. They had disconnected his back brakes, destroyed his emergency brake and set the engine to idle at forty miles an hour. No one in town would correct the idle, Trueman wasn’t aware of the brakes. He was laughingly told that all Cadillacs were designed to idle at that speed. As he was still struggling with this problem, which was actually attempted murder, offenses against his car began to occur regularly.
More importantly the lesbians and homosexuals decided Trueman was making a fortune off them. This must be stopped and at least some of the money recovered. The American way would have been opening their own store going into competition with him. But the American way was fast disappearing. The constitutional guarantees are an impediment to the doctrine of Political Correctness to which the advocacy of homosexuality is fundamental.
It was not enough to compete with him. In their minds he had ‘stolen’ profits from them. He must be cheated and robbed as they, in their minds, had been by him. The money must be recovered. Rudy Walling did set up a small shop between Daddy Cool’s and the Black Bottom called Reddy Rudy’s. The name was more than a double entendre. On one hand it traded on the electric industry’s trademark of Reddy Kilowatt. On another it had the implication of the homosexual’s being always ready for sex. On yet another it was a reference to Little Richard’s lyric: Tutti Frutti, I want Rudy.
A very curious campaign of sabotage against Trueman began. Every effort was made to undermine his operation. Homos and lesbians filtered in to dominate the staff. In the Candy Store Era before the advent of AIDS very heavy homosexual proselytization was conducted. Frequently one could identify men who had been recently seducees by the Headhunters. A concentrated campaign was conducted to seduce Opie Wooley Trueman’s manager. As Wooley was a cocaine addict and weak minded the task was not too difficult. Wolley’s loyalty was transferred from Trueman to the homos.
Reddy Rudy’s inventory was then transferred from Chrystalship to his store on a daily basis. It was a homosexual’s dream. They were screwing Trueman from behind and he didn’t even know it. The staff practiced offending the customers, trying to drive them away. Trueman found to his dismay that his male customers were being solicited. Leo Levi without looking up to identify who was before him tried to solicit Trueman. When Trueman fired Levi eight of the staff quit in protest while charges of discrimination were attempted to be filed against Trueman.
Trueman’s turnover, always high, became ferocious. Some hired in the morning left at lunch and never came back. A week or two became a long term employee.
Trueman, who was not aware of the nature of the problem was baffled by what was happening. The morality he had been raised with was no longer valid. Something was happening but he couldn’t identify it. Actually it was a stage in the war between Judeo-Christian morality and Revolutionary morality. The disciplined Judeo-Christian behavioral ideals were being replaced by the self-indulgent undisciplined ideals of the Revolution. The Constitution was falling before Revolutionary Political Correctness. The embattled Catholic and Protestant forces either couldn’t identify the problem or were powerless to resist it . At any rate there was no evidence that the problem was comprehended at all by society. There was only a call for a larger police force, an even more invasive State.
The old ideal of freedom of speech was being replaced by a system of censorship imposed by the PC factions. The world was dividing into Us and Them. Semites and anti-Semities, homos and homophobes, Black Racists and White Racists, factionalists against universalists. If one belong to the former groups one had freedom to belabor one’s opponents; if to the latter one was automatically guilty of anti-social behavior. One’s opinion became invalid and criminal. While censorship was theoretically deplored the notion of censorship applied only to the right to publish pornography.
Trueman was of the old school of American thought. He saw no harm in anyone saying anything they wanted. Words are cheap; only deeds count. While he sensed a change in the direction of American mores he was not quick enough to identify the problem. While Trueman was not so ardent in his belief that he would defend to the death anyone’s right to say what they chose he believed they had a right to say it. He didn’t censor his record inventory. The inventory represented all shades of opinion. Irish revolutionaries with absurd clandestine style even sold him records by the Wolfetones. Wolfe Tone was an eighteenth century Protestant Irish revolutionary. The Irish were so insular in their beliefs that they were aghast when Trueman placed the records prominently in view in the racks. They quite seriously thought he would be arrested.
Trueman took the broad view, the lesbians didn’t. While he carried the covers to which the lesbians objected he also carried the Olivia label of lesbian artistes. He carried the whole line as a service to the audience as only one record by Chris Williamson had any commercial value.
The lesbians decided that Dewey shouldn’t be allowed to carry Olivia. The ‘profits’ should not go to benefit a person they considered a proven male chauvinist pig and homophobe. Dewey suddenly found that he couldn’t get his orders filled. He couldn’t get anyone at Olivia to come to the phone and his rep was always in China or Siam.
Politically Correct groups were beginning to do real violence to political and social ideals as found in the Constitution. They had no tolerance for opposing points of view while demanding unconditional acceptance of their own. In the actual context of law the lesbians’ act was illegal but as the Olivia line had little commerical value Trueman let the issue drop while retaining a lingering sense of resentment.
All of these groups harbor large numbers of mentally unbalanced individuals who find legitimization under the cover of the group organization. Their sense of right and wrong is so skewed in favor of their ideological ‘justice’ as to be indistinguishable from criminality by traditional standards. many of these lesbians were outraged that ‘their’ music still remained in a ‘bigoted homophobes’ shop. Thus one day a mentally overwrought, hysterical Sally Ferguson marched into Trueman’s store, scooped up the remains of the Olivia section and marched defiantly out the door clutching her precious cargo to her breast. The sympathetic lesbian at the counter gave Sally an approving high sign as she marched past.
Trueman, who watched his inventory very closely, was mystified by the disappearance of the section, although no one would tell him what had happened. The word of Sally’s action spread throughout the lesbian community to their general satisfaction. The lesbians of course had close ties to the Women’s Movement. The story when told to women not involved in the lesbian movement didn’t receive the same sort of approval. In fact the story elicited strong disapproval as it was, after all, theft. Certain of the lesbians reflected on this disapproval. While they still didn’t think it wrong to expropriate their records from a homophobe they wished to absolve themselves in the eyes of the normal women. To rectify matters the Olivia rep was authorized to issue Trueman a credit for thirty dollars.
‘Mr. Trueman sir, we’re very sorry for what happened. Even though we’re not responsible here’s a credit for thirty dollars.’
Dewey looked at the credit a moment, then said: ‘Your friend took a hundred fifty dollars worth. I can’t accept a credit for thirty dollars. Besides which unless you give cash the credit is worthless. You won’t sell me records and if you did your people would only steal them back. So thanks for a meaningless gesture that is probably only meant to absolve your people’s guilt. Keep your credit and a pox on you and yours.’
The rep, who was really a pleasant person but caught up in an ideology no different than Judaism, Communism or Nazism was overweight by thirty-five pounds, dressed in long johns, bib overalls and the ubiquitous combat boots with turned down socks went by the name of ‘Belle Starre.’ She thrust out her lower lip which quivered slightly. She and her fellows needed to expiate this guilt. Trueman was refusing them their hypocritical satisfaction.
Belle Starre turned with heartbroken rejection from Trueman. She could now understand, she thought, how cruelly inconsiderate a man could be. He really deserves his reputation, she added to herself. As the passed the front counter she laid the credit on the desk. She would at least be able to say that she left the credit at the store. Trueman wouldn’t be able to honestly deny the fact; the lesbian behind the counter was her witness.
With the removal of the Olivia catalog the lesbians could think of no other way to draw Trueman into a feud over the covers. It was a pyrrhic victory but Trueman had successfully sidestepped the issue. The lesbian and homosexual communities still continued to work against Trueman’s interests. A steady campaign of vilification was carried on. Closet homosexuals who passed for straight carried the slander to all levels of society.
The lesbian and homosexual communities had been in the van of the effort to have the polygraph tests made illegal. Interestingly enough neither honest people nor criminals object to polygraphs. It is only the sneak and cheat who objects. It is they who have something to conceal. At the same time homosexual groups were parading their ‘sexual preference’ they were terrified that they would be discovered through polygraphs. They made an issue of ‘invasion of privacy.’
When the use of polygraphs for employee testing became illegal Trueman became, ipso facto, criminal in their eyes. Closely after polygraphs were outlawed Linda Delmurkwasser conceived the notion of writing an article for the Assassin exposing the ‘real’ Dewey Trueman while concealing the ‘real’ Linda Delmurkwasser. The goal being always to present a subjective need under the guise of objectivity.
It is in the interest of any group pursuing a political agenda to infiltrate the news reporting agencies. From within they can slant reporting and influence editorial policy toward their ends. Of course, at the same time it is necessary to prevent any dissenters to their opinion being employed. Actual ownership is unnecessary. Lesbians and homosexuals had such a presence on the Daily Assassin that the paper no longer tried reporting the news objectively but was solidly in the homosexual camp. All homosexuals were portrayed as saints while all ‘homophobes’ were devils. The paper openly endorsed homosexuality while conducting a terrorist defamatory campaign against anyone who voiced doubt or opposition. The ‘freedom loving’ editor of the Daily Assassin, Mingo Miybriy, herself a closet lesbian who only indulged her passions on business trips and with pros who were paid, actively encouraged Linda to remove the blot on Oregon’s decency in the name of freedom and equality.
Linda knew Attorney Trashman, Attorney was his given name, who had been employed by Chrystalship.
Attorney was a pasty faced sadist. He died his hair jet black, greasing it into curls long before the style became fashionable. He had been with Chrystalship an incredible eight months before he had been fired. He had been a constant source of irritation.
Trashman had taken full advantage of the Candy Store Era. He was so active he merely went from one case of gonorrhea to another. He had become so sensitive to penicillin that his doctor required him to wait an hour for possible reactions before releasing him.
Trueman had sent him home on two occasions. Once when he came to work wearing gauze pants with no underwear discharging copious amounts of gonorrheic pus. The second time Attorney and another employee, Jim Frascatti, came to work wearing T-shirts emblazoned Slave and Master. Frascatti who wore the Slave shirt was also searing black plastic manacles with a couple links of chain as bracelets.
The second dismissal had caused a jarring argument about Trueman’s alleged bigotry and homophobia. Trueman would have fired Attorney over either incident but he feared that if Trashman filed a suit the Old Boy Network would take delight in judging against him. Also the reaction in the homosexual and lesbian communities would have been such that he wouldn’t have been able to walk across the street without interference. This was almost the status quo as it was. The homosexuals as the saying goes had him over a barrel.
Atttorney Trashman was severely mentally unbalanced. He decorated his bedroom with various harnesses and sexual devices. He even had a real straight jacket stolen from Salem. One wall was a display of ballpeen hammers from the tiniest to the largest. Attorney delighted in a story he told of a pick-up being led into his bedroom. The guy took one look at the hammers, turned in fright screaming: Oh no. Not me you don’t, I’m game for anything but not those hammers.’
Attorney Trashman lingered on while employees turned over at a ferocious rate. Trueman did not have a single dependable employee. His so-called managers became mere conduits to carry out instructions which they failed to do. When his manager quit Dewey was forced to give Trashman a chance. Dewey had forgotten that he had sent Trashman home but Attorney continued to nurse a grudge against the ‘bigot.’
Drugs were the bane of Trueman’s existence. Not that he used them but everyone who ever worked for Chrystalship was deep into them. They argued that they needed drugs to get them through the day. They thought they performed better under the influence. During the Candy Store Era drugs were conspicuously everywhere. The record indistry had deteriorated so badly that not only did the perverts control production and design but the reps used marijuana and cocaine to corrupt store employees. Now, that means that the manufacturers supplied the wherewithal to purchase the drugs.
Trueman’s purpose in having polygraph tests had been to keep out drug dealers and heroin addicts. His great fear was that the efficiency of the store would be destroyed if drug dealers and addicts got the upper hand. He spent a lot of money for nothing. Opie Wooley was already there. No sooner had he hired the polygraph administrator than Opie had corrupted him with free cocaine. It seemed to the easiest thing to do no matter who the target was.
Trueman had also had a confrontation with Hannah Cohen of the Big Carrot Record Group over her lavish distribution of cocaine to the employees. Hannah had stoutly defended her ‘rights’ and refused to desist. The resulting confrontation with Warren Morley, the sales manager of Big Carrot, had resulted in Hannah’s being sent back to LA, hardly a punishment to her, while Trueman had his credit cut off permanently.
When he subsequently found his former employee from Eugene, Dobby, who now worked as rep for Individual Artists Group, trading records for cash with Wooley to buy some touring group cocaine he didn’t make anymore phone calls to the credit manager, he just told Dobby not to do it again. Oddly enough it never occurred to him that Wooley was selling the cocaine. Wooley had a clean polygraph test.
Between drugs and sex Dewey was revolted by Attorney’s habits of which Trashman kept him fully informed. Still Attorney was the only employee with any seniority. Dewey believed that Trashman was dishonest, therefore he made it a condition for Trashman’s advancement that he take another polygraph. Attorney reluctantly accepted.
Trashman was a thief; he failed the polygraph. As one would expect of someone with ballpeen hammers on his bedroom wall Attorney was cooly insolent in denouncing the reliablitly of the tests. Trueman was in a quandary. The campaign against the polygraph, given maximum publicity and endorsement by the Assassin, was close to success. The lesbian assembly woman, Greta Lafrenniere, would put the bill through in three month’s time. Trueman was almost simple in the goodwill he bore people. He probably would have given Attorney another chance anyway but as he was under heavy abuse for using the tests plus their imminent banning he did keep Attorney Trashman on.
A week later five hundred dollars under Trashman’s supervision disappeared. Through no one else had the opportunity to take it, Trashman cooly and contemptuously dismissed the notion he had taken it. Nor would he discuss the matter further.
Trueman took the matter as a test for dominance; he had no choice but to fire him. Trashman then warned Trueman not to make trouble for him or else, making a hammering motion to emphasize his words. As an Outlaw Trueman had no recourse to the law so he had to suffer the humiliation. Unwilling to let matters rest there Attorney actually sought a lawyer to sue Trueman for defamation of character but was unable to find an attorney to represent him.
Trashman had then gone to work for the New Criterion Coffee Shop on the second floor of Pilgrim’s. As the Candy Store Era progressed the homos became more bold. Many and wondrous were the stories about the scene in New York. One such influential story was that there was a place in the Big Apple where at lunchtime a man could put his penis in a hole in a curtain in a certain location and an anonymous party would minister to his need. Partially in response to this story the locals made the second floor toilet their social club; the place was not so anonymous as the hole in the curtain.
This was a hideous situation in a family shopping center. It would have been an easy matter to restore order. But the situation was complicated by one of those ugly little realities in American life that no one wishes to acknowledge. Racism. Pilgrim’s Center was owned by Jorge and Benito Sukamoto. In terms of human interest stories the Sukamotos had an astounding one. It is almost a shame to skim over it so briefly.
You sit there a cryin’
Right in your beer.
You think you’ve got troubles?
My friend listen here…
Now, there stands a blind man,
A man who can’t see.
He’s not complainin’
Why should you or me?
Don’t tell me your troubles,
I’ve got enough of my own.
Be thankful you’re livin’
Drink up and go home.
The Sukamotos originally came from Nagasaki one of the two Christian centers of Japan. They were Catholic, their family had been for three hundred years. The Japanese had been converted by Portuguese and Spanish priests. Hence Jorge and Benito were named after Iberian Catholic saints. Both had been born in Japan. Persecuted for their religion the Catholic Sukamotos responded to the governments request to emigrate to the East Pacific Rim.
Entry to the United States by the twenties was impossible for them so the Sukamotos elected to go to South America. They were destined for the Japanese colony in Brazil, but having landed in Peru they drifted up to Colon, Colombia. They did not find Colombia congenial so they cast longing eyes toward the United States. Father Ishi was an enterprising sort so gathering up his wife Eleanor and the boys he entered Mexico where he found a way to be smuggled into California. Not really more difficult then than it is now.
Ishi wanted to farm but the Californians had passed a law forbidding ownership of land to non-citizens. They also passed laws preventing the Japanese from becoming citizens. Not so different from the way Japanese treated aliens. All depends on which foot the shoe is on.
Ishi therefore, ignoring his consuls requests to stay in LA kept moving northward to Oregon where Japanese could own land. By the late thirties he was a successful truck farmer. He, Eleanor and the boys worked hard on the land. Jorge and Benito excelled by dint of hard work at school. In 1938 Benito was sent back to Japan to acquire a Japanese veneer. He was trapped there after December 7, 1941 for the duration of the war.
Jorge entered Harvard in September of ’41.
In the Spring of ’42 the order came for the Japanese of the Western Defense Command to be interned away from the Coast. Camps were established in Colorado, Idaho and the desert regions of California. It is erroneously believed that all Japanese were interned. Japanese in the Heartland and the Eastern Defense Command were not disturbed. Any Westerners who had a place to go were allowed to go there. Thus Ishi and Eleanor joined Jorge in Boston where they worked at good paying jobs in defense plants. Continuing to live frugally they returned to Oregon with more money than they had when they left. Plus Jorge had his Harvard degree.
End Of Clip 1, go to Clip 2 and Conclusion