Recreating (and advancing) pk’s censored domains: Macroinformation.org & Knatz.com / Personal / Stories / Themes / Racial /
2005 02 21 Shortly after meeting Jackie I set up my apartment with Myron. We added a roommate to lower the rent: Tony. Then Myron’s bass player, Bernie moved in. Then my old friend Brian joined us. Bill Love moved in at his own invitation. The place was like Grand Central Station, so who could notice?
Bernie was a junkie from Jamaica. Black junkie, that is, Jamaica, Queens. Every single one of his rent checks bounced.
Bill Love was a black from … Tennessee? Kentucky? Bill Love it turned out was a veteran bad check passer.
Myron’s checks didn’t bounce. Myron never gave me any checks. If I’d realized that my beloved friend, the jazz pianist, was himself a junkie, and a pill head, and a codeine freak, maybe I wouldn’t have been so happy to set up house with him.
Anyway, Myron screwed me. Bernie screwed me. Bill Love screwed me. (Bill Love screwed everybody.) (In fact, junkies also tend to screw everybody.) Anyway, I believe I’ve said enough to establish a theme here:
I have never been close to a black who didn’t wind up screwing me.
(If there’s an exception or two, then I screwed them: I still owe [the great] Romare Bearden a few hundred dollars!)
Romare Bearden graphic
thanx Nelson-Atkins Museum
(I’ll foreshadow here: I’ve never been close to a Jew where I didn’t get also screwed; unless I did the screwing.) (There’s one friend where I think it went both ways.)
2006 06 30 A thousand apologies: times passes, I never got back here to explain, expand, modify the above. Or, be generous, modify it yourself in your own mind.
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