I’ve tried to say who I am, what I’ve done, what I’ve been prevented from doing, what I’ve failed to do so many times via so many media. But my attempts fall short as my art fails to compass the truth, and as the society kicks me, making my task difficult to impossible. How would the Babe’s statistics be affected if he were kicked in the balls every time he took the mound or went to the plate?
In a world in which communication were possible among humans as well as between nature and man, between God and man, between god and man, I’d have said it right in the first place, you’d all know it, all of us reading and speaking perfectly. In this world I have to keep saying it again, while the black shirts destroy what I’ve said and done.
The voice of truth, Freud noted, can be shouted down at any time by any group of Yahoos; but the voice of truth, however puny, never shuts up, no matter what’s done to it.
Someone, please, recognize the Freud I’m paraphrasing and send the actual quote to me.
Anyway, get the point. Get the points. Never mind the inefficiency. Do you really want to prevent your salvation by correcting the pronunciation of another tortured savior? Restoring pk domains to this blog is the best last project I can think of.