hi all
everyone that doesn't believe society is deeply ill -- please leave the room immediately and go and hug a tree or paint your nails --- everyone else...... please put on your thinking caps.......... someone once told me that dance and music are the two things that all peoples across different continents had in common -- actually, i thought it was a flood story -- but the dance and music thing is definitely true...... still less stated, although also true, is that a popular form of entertainment was simple masturbation....... howdy hand, you're looking mighty sexy this morning: let's go out on a date.......... nowadays -- with the industrial revolution, the electronics revolution and television -- we are now loosely connected according to the principles of cohesion -- by the 'Media' -- part of this Media, books and movies, deals with pure fiction and entertainment --- a popular genre amongst movies, in the beginning of it's existence -- was the Western -- the story of how white men who weren't necessarily Spanish raped and killed American Indians and dragged Africans along in neck-shackles to populate ever further into the American West --- but later, as society became more populated, more adept at materialism -- a new social phenomenon arose: the serial killer -- and with it, a popular movie genre basically depicting serial killers and violent socio-pathic types........ under the loose heading of 'Drama'..... the following story is purely fictional and not based on any particular real characters, nor meant to incite any violence any more than violent movies are supposed to incite violence -- but are, rather, the soap scum that lines the bathtub in the dirty, sperm-filled water of a dirty, serial-killing, sick-in-the-head bather......... please, if you are soft in the head or prone to heart attacks, do not read on, (Rated R).........
The Savage Rampage of Rudy Gillete
Rudy Gillete was a bad apple. Thirty years ago, an Arkansaw State Trooper went missing and still nobody knows that his bones are lying in a vat filled with battery acid somewhere off Route 66, his last words were just that: 'Rudy Gillete' is a bad apple.
Rudy Gillete used to listen to Rage Against the Machine and think that the singer was an angry guy, but maybe a big pansy too -- he became very fascinated with Zach de la Rocha and even fantasized at times about making him perform fellatio on one of his favorite Glock pistols.......... Dan Brown, the famous writer of the 'Da Vinci Code' was also on the list of famous people that had registered in the troubled, climate-change polluted Oceans of his minds where so many Neurons lay dead on the Ocean floors of his mind like dead crabs killed by acidic waters caused by man-made pollutants, perhaps in Rudy's case, a mix of drugs and liberal education were to blame for his way of being.........
Years ago his mother had him see a psychiatrist so that he could claim benefits on her health-care fund: if he didn't see the psychiatrist, she couldn't claim benefits on his behalf as one of her dependants -- Rudy became increasingly impatient with the psychiatrist, with whom he ended up having many deep psychological arguments with, as Rudy was very well-read and fluent and conversant in most major strands of psychological essayist-thinking -- like Freud (whom he didn't like much) and Jung (who he thought was swell)....... but Rudy had, perhaps, certain criminal genes which a criminologist and psychiatrist and geneologist might consider dangerous and criminal at the very least. One day, while conversing with Doctor Beat, Rudy produced a gun, calmly and quietly - holding it up and letting it easily reflect the light in Doctor Beat's study -- Rudy noted the draining of blood from Doctor Beat's face, certainly Doctor Beat's heart was racing.
"What were you saying about repressed sexuality, Doctor Beat, tell it to me again,"
Unfortunately for Doctor Beat, he was going into shock, hyper-ventilating. Rudy stood up and calmly approached him, cat-like... he stood over the seated Doctor Beat and said quietly and calmly:
"Suck on the gun, Doctor Beat, perform fellatio on it -- and say, every minute or half minute: 'I don't hate Italians, there is nothing wrong with Italians at all' or surely you will die Doctor Beat, please understand",
Doctor Beat nodded and commenced performing fellatio on Rudy's Glock, "I don't hate Italians, there's nothing wrong with Italians at all", Doctor Beat whimpered lamely - he was terribly afraid but willing to do what it took to stay alive -- he was married with children and had two lovers on the side that he would miss terribly.
Good, Doctor Beat, that is enough, you may relax now, said Rudy as he leaned against Doctor Beat's table, Rudy dismissed thoughts of kidnapping Juliette Day-Lewis, the girl in the Kalifornia movie that he liked so much, and focused himself on the situation at hand.
"Now who's the crazy bastard, Doctor Beat, you or me?" Rudy asked him as he stood over him with his gun pressed against Doctor Beat's forehead.
"I'm the crazy bastard Rudy, there's no doubt about it,"
"That's right," Rudy said, - but may the reader know that Rudy, quite obviously, perhaps, you might think, was being somewhat cruel, just a smidgeon, perhaps, for example, Rudy wasn't even Italian in the slightest, not even 5% Italian, nor did he identify with being Italian, nor did he give Doctor Beat any idea that he saw himself somehow as Italian -- Rudy most definitely was NOT Italian, so his commanding Doctor Beat to say that there's nothing wrong with Italians at all was, at the very least, non-sequiterial. Moving on:
"That's right Doctor Beat, you're the crazy bastard, but that was an easy question, and perhaps, without a gun pointed at your head, you might loosely admit to your friends at Rolling Oaks Gold Club", (at this reference to his Golfing Club, Doctor Beat's eyebrows raised imperceptibly and his pupils dilated and eyes opened as he realized that Rudy had been stalking him during their therapy, "yes, I'm familiar with your golfing club, Doctor Beat, and your two little girlfriends that your wife is unaware of, including the sexy little Italian number... anyway, as I was saying, you might loosely admit to some of your friends at the Golfing Club, especially the guy that works in Corporate Finance, who is a bigger weasel than you are, that you are A crazy bastard, but i posit that you are only admitting you are THE crazy bastard, because you have a pistol pressed against your head by none other than yours truly."
"You got me Rudy."
"Well then, let me ask you, do you think that I am a crazy bastard?"
Of course it was a loaded question and needless to say, Doctor Beat didn't make it out of that situation -- his wife ended up collecting a big life insurance policy and marrying again to someone slimmer and better in bed. She was not colluding with Rudy in any way nor had she ever met him nor had Rudy expressed much interest in her either.
Rudy was just a bad apple.
Years before 9/11, Rudy had downloaded page after page from the Internet on things like the terrorist handbook. Rudy also foresaw the future difficulty of purchasing certain items with regard to law-enforcement checks, fertilizers and chemicals like such, for making massive bombs, so Rudy stockpiled a massive amount of chemical fertilizers and his terrorist handbooks and guns and rifles somewhere very safe which he could access perfectly without the slightest hindrance from others, actually he had bought a small property in Texas for $20,000 with inheritance money from his uncle. However, Rudy's lifestyle was not in the slightest, pegged down to this one little ramshackle property, and he only spend a total of a week or two there every year over his colorful, unusual, non-cyclical, non-patterned past. Another thing Rudy, a planner, deemed useful to have for the future was a list of the names and addresses of as many FBI agents as possible. Rudy, through his maneuverings, was able to somehow obtain a very long list of such, and this too, sat innocently-menacingly at his Texas property, along with his hundreds of gallons of chemical fertilizer for bomb-making and his stockpile of weapons.
No comments:
Post a Comment