All double crossed by advancing age in defiance of that last kernel of whom they think they are. The vagaries of life’s defeats evident to all but their bearer’s. But they must endure the dismissive looks of the indoctrinated young with their doctrinaire disgusts. Old Jews of constant opinion on their best behavior before the uncomprehending Goyim acting reasonably human for the moment. Their Raggedy Ann Muppet children passing by, authoritatively lost. The untranslatable rumble of these overly bucolic territorial groups routinely launching their daily harangues. All portrayed in the ‘big Macher’ style of potent hostile takeover in a Zionist approved exegesis making light of their former predatory careers. The ‘tribe’s’ sycophants too quickly mirroring the worst of these behaviors as taught. Not an ounce of respect afforded, even within their own! And certainly not for anyone outside of that tight knit little cabal. Yet all the rest without must in turn put up with them, as they supposedly run the show? The wood box player hammering his instrument like a murderer trying to kill his mentor in a cathartic St. Vitus dance aplomb. As much the faux artist impossible to judge his own misguided results properly. The restlessness of this crew expressed in nervous little phone whistles and tweets. The surrounding audience lost. But not quite in its improvisation as something suggesting music with all those false passions and overly indulgent quavering and quakes.
It is no longer the case built upon the assimilation of knowledge that has come of an inclusive education. But rather the simple appearance of the same. Those most recollected faux impressions of the most well-regarded views that come of daily association with the current dogmas on the current day. If one considers the starkness of the human form in all its many unprotected configurations as released unashamedly from its coverings, the effect is tremendous! Yet another apparent mystery is overlooked as we eventually wither and rot away. Once too often by choice and then not pretending to know. The preferred state of unconsciousness of the young is to be disconnected from the exterior reality via a smart phone’s ear plugs. The banality of their personal soundtrack blaring out the appearance of stilted form of distracted reality.
Part of a woman’s attractiveness is not really knowing her all that well. So that in one’s own mind they get to fill in the missing details in any manner that they wish to. What happens to all that stored up beauty of the soul as a young woman turns old? Does it evaporate? Or distill? An unexpected hug or a dance, and it can be released from the darkest most disused prisons from the forgotten depths of the oldest of crones. I study the artifacts of these women. And in them ponder my own lately deceased mother’s personal attachments? The question arising of what she saw in this type of collection of random things? Flowered purses and junk jewelry. Of past events? Or their utility in heightening the promise of enhancing physical beauty? Some special event long ago lost that they represented? How sad and sweet, as the physical beauty fades leaving its abstracted remnant in the most unique and striking features remaining. Will futility be overcome by the unexpected developments of something positive? I waited sitting before a table awaiting his instruction like a clown. Anger!! Unreasoning frustrating evidence from the demeanor of everyone around me? Why? Is there an effort to start a war? It is a funny state of aging to feel eternally young and be considered as past it?
I sense a chance! One so fundamental banging about this mental basement that creates an unprecedented level of public unease. This place may become unfit to live. A tyranny of too many inflexible minorities intolerant of the notion of each other. “Be nice the the fat white boy!” For his ire will one day consume you all! The horse hoof discipline of a female runner. Tolerance afforded only to those who maintain the thin veneer of happy fixtures. Older white guys sitting silently alone wasting their intellect on crossword puzzles. Customs honored only at the point of a sword. The same old house Jew ready to intimidate that other super-sized white guy with the loudness of his barely veiled sarcasm and scorn. What were the wonder products come of WW2? Plexiglass and jet engines? He acts as his group’s expected moral center. A cheerleader and case manipulator as phony tough Judas goat.