Vast Barren Wasteland

Quietly the news subsides.  Record breaking high temperatures in Fayetteville receive nothing from local news broadcasts, because their news like everyone's is bought and paid for like the Associated Press.  Bill Bowman did an authoritative article on the  Fayetteville Observer.  I need to read it again.  His publication is the Up and Coming.  Folks in "The Ville" (Da Ville) thought it would never fly, but it sprouted wings and has become better rag journalism than the Observer.  I think the Observer is capable, but their veteran writers are fleeing.  (or else they are being let go)  They publish my Letters to the Editor, and I am grateful.  I don't like the assembly line news they publish chosen by a mother company that owns seven hundred other newspapers.  Certainly Big Brother or their shell company owners tell them what to print.  How can record breaking high temperatures not make the news?  2017 was the hottest year on record, and 2018 will surpass its record.  Global Warming is nothing other than man run awry with capitalist industry.  There is no greater example than Da Ville.  Da Bragg, and it is nothing to Bragg about.  Record breaking heat.  Eighty degrees Fahrenheit in February, and not one news broadcast has anything to say about it other than casual chuckles and jokes about an early Spring.  I must digress.  Our plants are so confused, the entire yard is blooming in February.  When the cold snap hits again, and usually snow during the first weekend in April, the foliage will get damaged by the freeze.  Their what should be pretty green leaves will be marked with brown for the rest of the Spring and Summer.  Last year was not a good year for hydrangeas.  The year before was.  Last year they were damaged by the late freeze after record breaking high temperatures caused by carbon emissions.  Trump covertly has unzipped the fly of the EPA and exposed its taint.  Taint doing nothing.  Jeff Sessions, our Attorney General, has made it a life long career of suing the EPA.  Why is he our Attorney General?  Al Gore's attorney, the one that represented him in the Florida court case against W., (and they lost) has filed suit for infractions in our Electoral Colleges.  They are controlled by individual states, and they are being manipulated just like voting districts.  Legal representatives of Chemours are using the courts and politics to try and slide their carcinogenic emissions under the rug.  The EPA has not designated Gen X as a known carcinogen.  Republicans are so adept at manipulating the courts with our laws.  Congressmen write the flawed legislation with back doors cemented in.  The Republicans slide in those back doors on the down low before anyone knows what is happening.  Duke Energy is trying to slide out of their responsibility to clean up their own coal ash.  Why have they not been doing this all along?  It is because Bill and W. have eased regulations on industry.  The Donald, with his pasty, emotional, defeated self lies straight to the American people.  A pathological liar, our president.  Not President.  They are such amateurs.  At least Ronnie was a professional actor.  The fine for Duke energy also was a record breaking high.  One hundred million, and quietly Governor McCrory decreased it to less than two million.  I shouldn't criticize our FEMA Director.  They committed to reimbursing Fayetteville for hurricane damage.  Our dam, Mirror Lake, is owned by the city of Fayetteville.  They are responsible for rebuilding it.  FEMA consented to pay for it, but that meant a two year waiting period for the money.  The Donald diverted our hurricane relief money, because Houston and Puerto Rico took precedence.  Okay.  Our dam still has not been rebuilt one year and four months later, but a thirty million dollar baseball stadium is being built in our downtown.  They really need to sell those over-priced condos.  Our dam sits in decay as the street threatens to collapse.  One more strong Spring storm and it will disintegrate.  The spillway is still in tact.  I remember when they rebuilt it.  It is a strong concrete affair.  It still works, but the dirt washed out from under the street behind it.  The City Manager says it has to be torn down and completely rebuilt to FEMA standards.  What's the hold up?  On the agenda for the City Council and Mitch Colvin is not our dam.  The streets of Greenwood homes are smooth and wide, freshly paved and beautiful.  Vanstory Hills?  Westchester Drive is laden with pot holes so deep your car suspension jolts your kidneys out of your back.  I have a chest infection but no antibiotics.   You can score heroin, crack, or tea on the street, but I can't find a doctor who seems to understand medicine.  The downside is the United States is the world's leading economy but the world's biggest shit hole.  A vast barren wasteland of toxic emissions, but the money rolls in. 

Flank

So you huge douche bag.  Whether you be a surveillance engineer, via hob nob satellite bratalite, an Army plebe stuck in a funnel, a munnel, at the Bunnell, a fag in a hag Army private in a tunnel at Fort Fag Hag, a CXS-T schmindimeer, a fulkaney, a Dulkaeny, a puse a laney, a Dandy.  Alot of them around.  Dandies.  Dandilions.  Fock off you buse toff.  Listen.  Listen, and hear.  Me.  I hear you.  Your buse oft.  Your noise.  Your huddled masses, flem bashes, seeking to empower ISIS.  (not)  The NRA, the huddle masses of rich, white, weak, limp-dicked old men with money.  Afraid and scaring old women.  Listen to me, you cheese winded fock, weak fart jack hag. M.f.  Get out of town, M.f.  Maynard Ferguson.  Jim Ferguson.  Dimm Simmerson.  Dank, on the wank.  When I find toi.  Moi, will?  Thwart, your wart on your dak.  Shack. 

Ain't LIfe Grand in Fayettenam?

I sit in my room, I sit on a shelf, like an elf.  Delphi.  Smelt.  Smells like fish.  Smells like rendering animal fat.  Smells like cat chow.  Funk, and not the good kind.  Smells.  I sit in my room, and it hovers all around me.  Funk.  Electrical funk.  Acoustical funk.  Not the good kind.  For the period of one month, funk, for the period of one month, we, the underprivileged are inundated with funk.  Electrical funk.  I have not been able to work in my home recording studio because of the funk.  I call it the Fayetteville death ray.  It is on right now.  The first time I experienced the Fayetteville death ray I lived in Cow Town.  (Columbus, OH)  Ohio I say.  I lived five hundred miles up the road in the Midwest, but I could feel the Fayetteville death ray as clear as a bell.  (That doesn't make sense, but neither does the world in which we live today)  I could feel the Fayetteville death ray.  I was evicted from my apartment for threatening my neighbors.  First when I moved in the maintenance crew did not torque down the sink trap.  I bumped it with my popcorn bowl, and it moved just enough to allow the water from my sink drain to pour underneath the unit.  Straight through the cabinet floor underneath the unit.  In a week or so that rogue water accomplished something.  I don't know exactly where it went, but suddenly the subflooring of this apartment came loose.  Now when I walked inside there was play in my floor.  It was like a trampoline.  The inside floor of my apartment was a trampoline, and now when my neighbors walked around my floor moved.  I'll repeat that.  When my neighbors walked around next door, my floor moved up and down.  It made me sick, and I wrote them a letter asking them if they could take it easy.  They were not sympathetic.  They did not understand that water had been flowing from my sink to the underneath part of my apartment for over a week.  Where was that water going?  I complained to the management, and they came and went into the crawlspace.  Clearly I heard them say, "He has a leak."  Then promptly they boarded up that same crawlspace, so no one else could take a look.  The denied any damage to the subfloor.  It was a gymnastic event, living on a giant trampoline with three people next door competing.  I've never felt so sick.  I complained to no avail.  They denied any damage, so I put the rent in an escrow account downtown.  This did not go over well.  Before the apartment manager could get her rent, they had to attempt to make a repair to the floor.  They did not.  Instead she evicted me and turned me over to the FABCO collection agency.  She also gave my personal information to a telemarketing company, so the junk mail just began flowing.  It took a while, but I used Legal Aid.  They negotiated a bargain with FABCO, and got her request $1,400.00 down to $400.00.  Promptly I paid the debt.  It now was reasonable.  She had trumped up the fees including replacing linoleum in the kitchen where my piano's wheels had made ruts.  I asked her first if it were okay to have an acoustic piano.  She said yes.  I drove all the way, five hundred some odd miles, to Fayettenam  all the while getting closer to the source of my disturbance.  While my subfloor was damaged by the water and possibly cracked, there was another element at play.  It was the Fayetteville Death Ray.  When I pulled up in our driveway, opened the door of my Toyota Tercel wagon, and stepped onto our asphalt driveway there it was.  The Fayetteville Death Ray, not to be confused with Jeff Ray who was a guitarist who attended OSU when I was there working on my doctorate.  Jeffy was hit and killed by an Amtrack train while taking promotional photos for his music career.  Jeff was killed by an oncoming Amtrack train.  How could they not hear this train?  A passenger train traveling over sixty miles and hour, and they didn't have time to get out of the way.  Damn.  Poor Jeffy.  I instinctively knew he would not live long.  I knew it when I met him at OSU.  Jeff would not live long.  He would die tragically, and he did.  It is a tragedy.  I stepped onto our driveway, and I could feel my movement reciprocated in the air.  The air in Fayetteville was pressurized to a point of being animated, only it wasn't.  It wasn't animated.  It was not cartoonish and happy.  It was alive, moving, and angry.  If I pushed on it, it pushed back.  Later I discovered these are the properties of "Standing Waves."  RADAR is a standing electromagnetic wave.  Instead of dissipating into the air they stand.  Acoustic standing waves are created in a variety of ways, and often if there is a reported haunting it is because of an acoustical standing wave.  Standing waves mostly are low frequency, because they have much longer wavelengths and move more air.  Below twenty hertz they become sound pressure rather than audible sound.  Vic Tandy can tell you a thing or two about standing waves.  He has studied them.  Later I came to understand what causes this pressurization in our air.  We are lucky to be at the crossroads.  It's too bad I can't strike a deal with the devil and find success in the music business.  Instead at our crossroads we are at a common point for multiple rail freight yards.  Yahoo!  (and not the internet kind)   Multiple rail freight yards.  How, you say, is that possible in the burgeoning megalopolis of Fayettenam?  Easiest answer?  BRAC.  Previously before BRAC there was Bush.  What's worse, BRAC or Bush?  They are about the same.  Bush Sr. invaded Panama back in say 1989?  This is when I became depressed for the first time.  I was living in Columbia, South Carolina.  I no longer was working for the university in their music department, and I was living a Park Place Apartments.  For some unknown reason my mind and my senses shut down rendering me helpless.  After many years of trying and exploration, it only was a few months ago I connected Bush Sr.'s invasion of Panama with my depression.  Able American fighting forces mobilized and descended upon Panama from all directions.  It must of been something.  All of these American military bases bugging out to harass Manuel Noriega, who died only recently about the same time my father passed.  It is fitting I guess.  My depression was from low frequency sound previously that did not exist.  My tuned, sensitive, and artistic inclinations using sound in music were being bombarded by the war chants of Bush Sr.'s invasion of Panama.  AC traction had just come into existence in the railroad industry, and rest assuredly they were going to use it to haul all that military might around the world.  Still they are doing it, and it all originates at Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point south of Wilmington, North Carolina.  Here in little old Fayettenam we are lucky to be in the cross hairs of multiple rail freight yards.  What you say?  How is that possible?  Multiple rail freight yards?  1.  Honeycutt Marshalling Yard, Fort Bragg.  (Their mainline runs underneath Gruber Rd., where they have built multiple loading ramps to be able to load munitions on the down low.  These are in buildings and go underground to the tracks hidden below Gruber Rd.)  Please correct me if I am wrong.  With BRAC came Ground Forces Command and a plethora of other high profile military commands.  Shit is coming and going 24/7, especially since our Army is a privatized security force for corporate America.  Ask Cheney.  Along with those underground ammo dumps, I'm sure there are a handful of nukes sitting in silos.  All in all it has become a high profile establishment, and little old us are of no consequence.  Who cares if they load trains 24/7 with heavy haul AC traction locomotives, like the Taos Hum transmit low frequency sound and vibration through the ground.  We are so grateful for such a thing.  That is just number one.  2.  DAK Americas.  CSX-T hauls out their polyresin supplies, and evidently N/S switches them.  My Google Maps shows a Norfolk Southern locomotive sitting in their freight yard.  I would wager my left testicle that that old hunk of junk has been rebuilt to AC.  3.  River Terminal.  This is the Aberdeen and Rockfish's piece of cake.  I always ask the question why a shortline railroads engine house is in Aberdeen, but they drive those antiquated rust buckets to our fair town to do their business.  Whore?  10:45 A.M.  Used to be their engineers would blow that infernal annoying horn.  It toddles past our neighborhood, a two stroke turbo-charged outdated diesel engine, to the N/S switching yard on Russell Street.  It is unmistakable, the vibration of this machine.  Always I have said it is like sleeping on the hood of a running eighteen wheeler.  We are so lucky to have this each and every day, an A/R locomotive or two freely roaming around Fayetteville.  Then they drive back to Southern Pines to bed down for the day.  They drive to Fayettenam to do their work, then drive back to Aberdeen.  Convenient set up, huh?  Isn't that nice.  I'm sure Pinehurst appreciates it as well.  Do you're dirty work in "The Ville" and come back to a golfing community to rest.  3.  CSX-T Milan Yard.  They have been putting trains together continuously for one month.  The engines run all night, sitting, idling, just the way Hunter Harrison would have wanted.  That's four, right?  Four discreet railyards, and what is the bonus prize?  If I take a scale and measure the distance to each of these railyards on a Google map, what is the result?  1., 2., 3., and 4. all are about the same distance from our crossroads.  Five miles.  You could have not achieved a better triangulation in high school geometry class.  Assault from all side, north, east, and south.  What's on the west side?  The Normandy Drop Zone.  Ain't life grand, in Fayettenam? 

The Rise of Communism In America

Never consciously had I disliked North Carolina, until my graduation day from UNC- Chapel Hill.  I just completed the most rigorous, taxing, and enlightening four years of my life completing a Bachelor of Music Education degree.  When I stepped off the stage I was offered $17,500.00 a year to teach in North Carolina's public schools.  Nothing has changed.  Our state is one of the nation's bottom five for the lowest teacher's salaries.  Why would I consider this token job in 1985, after spending four years in one of the countries best universities?  I was insulted.  Consequently never have I taught in the North Carolina public school system.  Both of my parents did, and as Baby Boomers their chosen teaching careers were rewarded greatly.  America was different then.  We all know that.  It is drastic how much America has changed.  It is politics, not the American Dream, American stamina, American spirit, or our Founding Fathers.  Politics, the system of negotiation our elected officials use to govern our nation, has failed.  It has failed, because the lobbying industry has become so strong they either bully, coerce, tempt, or bribe our elected officials with money.  Lobbying from corporate America in our private sector governs America in complete abandonment of how the Founding Fathers intended.  Does this corporate-controlled government adhere to the United States Constitution?  They could not continue to govern if they did not, but rest assured the allegiance to our nation's charters is not what it once was.  Times have changed, our economy has changed, and our priorities have changed.  Whether they abide by our Constitution is not the foremost issue.  The foremost issue is that our elected officials, including the President elected by an Electoral College, do not represent the interests of America's citizens.  While close, three million Americans chose Hillary Clinton to be our new President?  How was Donald Trump elected?  This question never has been raised.  What is an Electoral College, and who are these individuals?  Why do they get to make the decision who is the President of the United States?  What good is a popular vote if it is not used to choose the President?  George W. Bush defeated Al Gore in the Florida court system.  I do not think he won, but Al Gore choose to concede thinking he was doing the appropriate thing.  He had too much dignity to continue the fight.  Consequently since George W. Bush's election, the country drastically has declined in every way possible.  It is almost as if God is baiting the American people to revolt.  Both Russia and France revolted against their governments.  Will we?  Since the Bush family inhabited our White House, things have gone awry.  Oil men it would seem have no interest in representing the interests of common Americans.  They are interested in making money from oil.  Dick Cheney would not allow a Muslim dictator to control a large percentage of the world's oil market, and now we have America's longest war.  We are still attempting to clean up the Bush mess.  Not many months ago our Congress created an eight hundred billion dollar slush fund for America's military.  This was not part of Donald Trumps fiscal budget, which he recently submitted.  Since 9/11what have we seen our military do?  They are attempting to clean up the Bush mess.  We attacked a foreign country under false pretenses, utterly destroyed their country by bombing their infrastructure, and left our military equipment there to fuel the formation of the most deadly terrorist cell in American history.  ISIS was created by George W. Bush, and today our American military is employed not to serve us, but to clean up W.'s mess.  If we were to utilize our military, a well-paid, in shape, trained fighting force to rebuild America's infrastructure, we would be smart.  Instead as America often has done, we spend America's money on War Economy.  This is what we have today.  There is no other economy, because Bill Clinton forged the path of Globalization at the behest of Corporate America and Wall Street.  Globalization is what wounded America, and we will not recover.  Never will America's economy recover when corporations will pay foreign labor forces a fraction of the needed salary to live in America.  Americans have been forced into poverty, and it will not be long before we are back in slavery again.  Since the day I graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill, that is what is has felt like to me.  There is a simple remedy.  Cow tow to the man, submit, don't make waves and they will hire you.  Be American, free, strong, and independent, and you will be unemployed.  In my four strenuous years at UNC I never learned this.  No one ever told me that you had to be subservient to be employed in America.  No one ever told me that I had to live in the "little black box," the box held by the rich, the mafia, corporate America, and now our government.  I was naive enough to think that if you adhered to Christian principals, abided by the Ten Commandment, and worked hard you would be rewarded.  The way America has rewarded me is by making my chosen vocation irrelevant.  In recent years our great American values, values which built and grew this nation, have been discarded.  The grassroots professions, skills, and services that built America no longer are deemed valuable.  Agriculture, textiles, furniture, the arts, and other humanity-based professions have been become extinct en lieu of cheap foreign-made crap.  My profession, the professional music industry, is thought should be free.  An industry which was an integral component of the twentieth century, the music industry and its appreciation of quality music, has been deemed unimportant.  Thus the values associated with quality music, a quality life, have been usurped.  Instead we rely upon instant gratification from addictive technology allowing Americans to be controlled like drones.  I tried Distro Kid.  I posted five of my original music projects in internet stores.  What all ready has been understood by mainstream musical artists was true.  Spotify, Rhapsody, Apple Music, and the rest think that our music is worth only a minute fraction of what it should be.  They want to play our music for their own gain for free.  Musical artists other than the small handful of produced bought-and-paid-for pop stars have no opportunity ever to see financial gain from their craft.  That is what I see each day when I wake, a nation, a state, that wants to pay me nothing to teach our young people, and an economy which thinks my artistic renderings should be free sacrifices to the graven images of the modern American economy.  Then there is this NRA.  There are special interest groups, but this NRA defies any logic.  The same groups of grassroot Americans who believe in militias and prepare for the end are not represented by this special interest group.  It is a ruse.  There is no logic to a "civil rights" organization that feels military weaponry should be made available to common people.  What kind of training has the populace received to be able to handle assault rifles?  When I try to discern who this group is, this NRA, I have no answer.  In light of mass shooting after shooting after shooting on our home soil, still a civil rights organization thinks military weaponry should be available to the populace.  Are any of these people, the elite businessmen who created and fund the NRA going to pick up a weapon and hold a post?  Are they going to sit on that wall?  The answer is "No."  The availability of assault weapons is not a literal right.  It is a figurative right, a right that extremists use to fight abstract, propagandistic, wars of attrition.  It is a small group of weak, afraid, Caucasian men who want to rule the world at all cost.  They are Hitler, they are Lenin and Stalin, and they are Mussolini.  As I have reiterated time and time again, extreme terrorism all ready has been in mainstream America for years.  It has become our American government.  Our military is a private paid fighting force used to secure the interests of these men.  These interests are the natural resources of the Middle East.  That is why we still are fighting America's longest war. 

N.C. on My Dumb Ass Mind

The reason why North Carolina is hot in February, Feb. 11 to be exact, 70+ degrees in the middle of winter, splinter, schinter, Global Warming, forming is the Motza Ball.  Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point.  Doink.  Joint.  No point.  The MOTZA ball.  Hall.  Haul ass out of N.C.  D.C.  She for me.  Dee pee dee.  Mime.  Rhyme.  N.C. is hot in winter, not because of a splinter, but because military trains, reins, Gaines, are fraining the membrane, "Mop!", flop on the dop, MOTSU is loading shite on the kike.  Dyke on the kyke, heard the hype?  Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point is loading munitions from trains and trucks to cargo ships, amuck.  Heat, heat, and not petite.  Heat that surges from the murges, right up the Cape Fear River Valley, to Fayettenam.  Heat.  Heat.  Not Petitie.  Ripe.  Precise.  Not concise.  Hot in Feb.  No debs.  Debutante.  Not!  Rot.  Golden pussy.  Lick it before  you stick it.  Halt!  Grammephone.  Damn, it's the phone.  Global farming, and warming.  No one questions, we just gesture.  No conspiracy.  Just lunacy.  Heat in Feb.  No Debs.  Summer in winter, Mother Nature will splinter.  Soon, to boon, to Mar, Del Mar.  It's too hot for February.  MOTSU ball is causing the fall.  Ships and trips, locos and docos, Datsun, defunct....   It's too hot.  Humidity coming fromt the Atlantic, right up the Cape Fear river basin.  Military Ocean Terminal Sunny Point.  Joint.  Smoke. Weed.  Need to be held accountable...  The U.S. Military, takes 800 Billion, people are dying.  No denying.  Trump is Gump, but Gump was intelligent.  Gent he's not.  Know.  Dot  Frot.  Frog.  Mo Hog.  Dawg.  Heat is going to kill Earth.  Not so many years left.   Better make you peace with The Creator.  God knows it.  But we have to live in it.  Word.

Disrespect Fayetteville

In 1978 my family purchased a home in Vanstory Hills.  My parents worked their entire lives to be able to afford this home.  "BRAC" and a handful of oligarchical businessmen have disrespected our neighborhood and continue to lower our property values.  As investors attempt to improve the image of Fayetteville with downtown development and urban sprawl, citizens continue to leave Cumberland County.  Crime has risen to a critical point, soldiers are moving to Pinehurst, and Vanstory struggles to survive.  Mirror Lake Drive has been closed for over a year inconveniencing neighbors and congesting traffic.  Vanstory unknowingly has become Miramar.   Flight paths to Grannis Field have been changed, and BRAC has made Fort Bragg the largest military base in the country.  Air traffic strafes our neighborhood continuously.  Low flying aircraft above the tree line spew allergens that continue to make our eyes burn inside our homes.  We cannot open the windows, and the toxic jet wash is killing our foliage.  Our neighborhood has become expendable for the good of BRAC and the wealth of local industry.  DAK, Cargill, Chemours, Valley Proteins, Hexion, Fayetteville Block, and Goodyear are priorities for CSX-T.  PWC is overcharging customers, and Duke Energy demands users pay for the clean up of their coal ash.  Never has such a community including the Gold Coast, Skye Drive, Vanstory Hills, and Huntington Park been treated so poorly.  My father is turning over in his grave. 

The Shape of Shite

I'm in no mood to write lucidly.  I don't know if I can form a coherent statement, but I am hot, aggravated, and tired of the Fayettevillle "Death Ray."  Others I see around me look similar.  Their eyes are taxed, their emotions wrought, and their demeanor one of survival.  Fayetteville is HOT, hot from its "Death Ray."  How is it possible that it can be 65 degrees one day and 11 the next?  How could have Mother Nature run so awry that she cannot control her temperature?  How do the plants know when to bloom, when to pollinate, and when to go dormant, when the temperatures are all over the place.  Ask Trump.  Ask Guillermo Del Toro, the director of "The Shape of Water."  How can you include every revolting sexist stereotype in a film and have it be revered by the masses, nominated for awards, and heralded as art?  Rapidly I am learning about Trump America, white America, elitist America where everyone seems to believe everyone should own a Negro.  How could one not be revolted at the sexist behavior in "The Shape of Water?"  "I still have my thumb, my trigger finger, and my pussy finger?"  "Why am I interviewing the people that swab the piss, and the shit?"  That the New York Times or the Washington Post can say this is a wonderful film, a dreamy, clever homage to American cinema?  The embodiment of white supremacist America by a Mexican director, surely he has danced for his supper and the plantation owners are clapping.  "Bring me another nigger to dance for me!"  "The Shape of Water" is worse than a Beanarritu bought and paid for DeCaprio Emmy.  Repugnant characters, stereotypical Little Rascal cameos, and racists undertones.  Was it a satire?  Was it a parody?  For the New York Times and the Washington Post to sing its praises so highly, it only could have been.  Who would laugh at Fascism on the screen?  Those ignorant enough not to understand it gross implications?  Trump America?  Yes Indeed.  If The Academy saw fit to reward the most amateurish soundtrack of 2017 to "La La Land" (and it is no surprise seeing its competition), then this vote paved the way for the most ridiculous, cheesiest, and infuriating film in years.  "La La Land" was insulting, with its cruise ship musical score and amateur production.  Maybe it had a story, but Del Toro's take on the "Swamp Thing" or "Creature from the Black Lagoon" was as self indulgent as "Showgirls."  With no plot, intrigue, surprise, or mystery, "The Shape of Water" was a comic book, a graphic novel meant for children, but who in America would let their children see that?  Masturbating in a bathtub in the first five minutes of the film?  The most low ball ethnic jokes found of the floor of the toilet the maids cleaned?  How anyone agreed to be a part of such a mockery of America, well they are limping to the bank.  Bad dog.  Bad dog.  Bad Del Toro.  Go back to Mexico and give your own country a bad name for a while.  America demands better from you.