My Dear Maxine,

    Hoo boy!...What a long *STRANGE* "ignorance/and or inferiority complexes of others casuing great suffering among sentient beings" it's been...

    Blackballed at Squaw Valley--per the same old same old, "Sch-too-Pid Schmidt and Reston/Hosie Cop-Schlop Gestapo" operating at the beck and call of Herr VICE-Chencellors like Carol "Call Me Attilla the Gettin' None" Christ and her gang of "leopard-skin-pillbox-hatted" so "ditzy how could you take offense" minions of "clear and present menace to societies"...

Sent out the poetry chapbook to Mr. Martin at Black Sparrow, as you requested--and was promptly "rewarded" for my "meritorious efforts" (as the matter used to be known in quaint, "Jeffersonian Democracy circles") by the "Seig Heil Thanatos Brigade" poseurs, under "color of law" as  "anarchist/leftists," munchkining about with "deny, discredit, diss-Troy!" (letter attached, I'll check the cool electronic tracking gizmo tomorrow)...

Had a conversation with my old History prof, Mr. Martin Jay, and--before the wingnuts playing the HILL-ariously machievellian *devilishly* clever game of "we're training [Tom] for ______" so just play along managed to cold-turf me again and get the patrons to "make my life unnecessarily difficult"--he purchased some Berkeley Rep season tickets from me and gave me the pleasure of an intelligent conversation...(I did a bit of homework, reading "Downcast Eyes," before my callback, and had found a wonderful philosophical tracing of the "denigration of vision" from the Greek's use of the matter as of primary importance to spiritual understanding right into the so-called "German idealism" of *speculative* thought (where the *tyrannos* of *doxa*, mere "opinion," usurps da Reich to rule...)...(Phrasing mine own, be forewarned, as I don't have my notes of his work here but will quote him properly for "the complaint, the complaint")

  Mr. Jay's Chapter Nine,I believe, deals with the "Derrida/deconstructionalist" alleged feminists (as opposed to one like Germaine Greer, an "open and avowed" heterosexual--despite the well-known dangers of such an admission, *these days*), and what one French dyke called "the evils of the male gaze" (this "school of public policy" having taken over what used to be a "haven for intellectual freedom," i.e., Berkeley, by the way) and how "any means necessary" must be taken to "shield" women from such "invasions"...

  Now, as I recently read an article about some Freudian "tennis coach," complete with sheer "psycho-babble" inanity of "the net represents the repressive mother, in the way of *scoring* with the young chick in the server's box, a man's way of proving his virility despite his age" (or some such nonsense that left me literally mind-boggled,as my "Zen and the Art of Tennis" generation, to my recollection, never even contemplated such *neurosis* as even remotely being possible "projected" into that wonderful activity of "focusing on the ball" (having it loom large in one's consciousness, beyond any such aforedescribed "concepts")...

Shoulda been a tennis pro--not only all the court time, but one as "enlightened" as me would have had a steady stream of "married owmen" perhaps afflicted with "conceptual challenges"...

Anyway, in positing my "life-enhancing" way of being with these affective-schizo (like the actor John Geilgood,(sp.?) described in style as "being cut off at the waist, all head in his approach" as a compliment!) clunkabouts--the latest, the "lesbie-Nazi" U.C.P.D., all convinced and concerned, finally, that "[I] may be dying"...but not to assume "accountability" or "responsibility" the way *real men* used to be taught was a matter of one's duty, no matter what, no, these "Fed.Gov't disease warfare-no-game-siesz!" *ignorant per se* "color-of-law menace to societies," exulting that a "decade of abuse" at their filthy little hands has finally accumulated "a thousand natural shocks" to my system--fatiguing me a wee bit, as the Trungpa's son,Gesar Mukpo, and a new female friend of mine, were each *priviliged* to witness at a reception for him last Saturday (both having the "light of Trungpa" in the eyes, a matter that a decade ago, almost all of the Trungpa's students could exhibit, yet now, at the degraded Dharmadhatu, *none* have any longer...)

In other words, as I am working out several hours every day, pressing *real* weights, and doing such "advanced Tantric practicioner" breathing *chi* exercises as "bone-marrow washing" I do not feel any residual effect from any of these viruses illegally per se given to me as the "J. Edgar Hoover closet-case retaliations against the Adlai Stevensons of this once better land" by ignorant, street-psychotic "Federal Task Force undercovers" like not only the latest,Ricardo, who attempted to pick a fight with me recently--unsuccessfully (the night I was nearly murdered in S.F. with a 10-times-lethal dose of CIA/ANC *scientifically* developed poisons)--and then pulled a semi-auto assault weapon on a B.P.D. who verified my account, through "real wintesses," that I was doing absolutely nothing and warily backed away from the fool and his hand-in-his pocket) but too that little boy punk, Khadani--like that Mumia character an FBI/"Black Panther" legacy (can we say, why here's Spikey Lee the snitch toosies!) who is convinced that his "furthering his undercover" *mission* that "he don't gotta tell nobody about" includes "cold-blooded cop murders," a matter that a *real tough guy* like myself finds not only distasteful but too indicative of a cowardly "bad karma walking" that might cause one "a heap load of trouble one day" soons as those boys on the front porch, sitting round that cracker and pickle barrel, done figured out hows theys "nouse boys" done "doing 'em (or their wives, daughters, doggies, whatever!) in the back door...(Not anything with which I would ever have any "association," just some "turf" upon which I've found, as a matter of survival, best to "don't go there..."

the *precis* of the morning, as I'm really tired of writing for fools who can't understand "clear and plain language" (like that fool at Henry's, one of Dalie's and Hosies boyszies, who somehow graduated from Cal as a Nazi of Islam football player but don't got a clue what "insignia" means, and no, you did not "Hear through no grapevine," as even Henry Louis Gates had to concede was "blackman's paranoia" a few years back, that the entymology involved is "related to the n-word"...

much love,
tom
 

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