there are tiers of integrating into english society...
for starters... you wander into
your late evening Costco...
and people are speaking with an outright pride:
of keeping "integration" firmly on a leash...
you somehow find yourself
"jumping cueue" before the check-out...
your father is standing bewildered
by a smartphone: the sort of everyday luggage
i still keep at home:
firm, locked to a laptop... me crow bent
in a chair: typing...
this lovely loved-up african couple begins
a slight protest... oh they're vocal...
they giggle and laugh and make:
small cock innuendo...
but... oh dear... they don't hear white
people speaking Ęglish!
then i have to interlude them with:
my, mówimy, po, polsku!
does anyone have to teach people some
sort of the same bollocks?
paranoia or... i just don't speak whatever
african they were speaking?
there was never a slave trade in africa...
or: there was a trade...
the slave traders traded with the african elites...
mein gott! didn't the hebrew god emerge from
the counter to african elites akin
to the pharaohs?! who the fuck was
Idi Amin wuz h'white! surd no surd...
apostrophe or not: no no no!
Idi Amin was not black...
he was a... half-baked turkic cousin of some
Gandhi cousin...
black people never illed black people...
ha ha... like white people never wronged
white people: pristine, puritanical blacks...
marching against the whites...
yes... but what if a whitey is not, speaking english?
what if he's in his own lingua locum?
the land... fuck it rape: cast a cathedral of
slavery out of it... the language?
it's where i stand, where i go...
a white boy speaks something beside english...
i see what integration looks like...
the fucking polacks pretending to hush-hush
their language their existence
in this shambo: this babylon of other tongues:
the other tongues? peacock...
peacock and walk freely like those hindu holy
cows...
never do they bother to wonder:
what about the outskirts? among the english?
i'm in england: on the outskirts of London...
if i'm going to delight myself in speaking
my own native: unless addressed in english...
i'll speak my native (tongue) hush hush...
i'm not fucking peacock bound to a multi-cultural
safety net...
but when some fucking inbred intellect
jokes... the slave trade was only one way...
the white men profited...
exported... the africans just... spontaneously
appeared... there was no pharaoh...
there was not ZULU king selling them off...
trading... trading... nigg'ah, please...
trade = trade-offs...
you sell your i.q. 50 with a b.m.i. 50/1...
and the african king get's his dental care taken care of:
he poaches a few elephants...
grinds the bones to pristine whites...
and by some voodoo miracle...
lives to be the age of prince mugabe...
because only whites do terrible things to other
races... and never do terrible things to their own...
and all the blacks do good things to other races...
and never b'ah b'ah'ah bad things to each other...
oh now: it's fucking utopia back where
north, south, west and east come from...
by Darwin's stretch of historiological interests!
"anger" via... what?
fuck? thank god i haven't been
subjected to a circumcision...
i can air out whatever requires being aired...
flush a genocide down a toilet...
over what? no sound... it's not exactly illegal...
it's: potential sexuality...
but a slave TRADE requires two parties...
those who SELL and those who BUY...
last time i cheched: if there is a god...
and the last time i checked... Egypt is in Africa, no?
it's not somehow confused to be in Arabia
just because that's where Islam also spread?
no? good... then sure as shit! Idi Amin is a tartan
motherfucker! woad warrior: numero uno: supreme!
because in north london, in a costco...
and english is no form of a lingua franca:
a language of commerce...
hell... i'll speak my confusing white quasi-"russian"...
but among the british, on the outskirts?
i'll still speak it... hush-hush... waiting to be
addressed... replying: yes; kind fuck-wit of whatever
post-colonial neo-national cause...
hard to conceive a nation after an empire...
i look toward Italy for inspiration...
Italy is no Rome...
and England is no British Empire... is it?! is; it?!
of all the nations congregating in this dust...
the hindus... after Costco we made it to a cash & carry
in Barkingside to pick up some chillies...
some tortillas, some grated coconut flesh...
and some dried coriander leaves...
i said to her: listen, there's no chance in hell...
i've seen dried basil, tarragon,
majroram, thyme, rosemary...
the whole italian seasoning job...
coriander seeds? yes, coriander powder yes...
cumin seeds cumin powder...
fucking fennel seeds, yes!
but so help me Govinda and the Holy Krishna:
there's no such thing as dried coriander leaves!
no one seasons with dried coriander leaves!
either fresh... seeds... or powdered seeds!
but the Hindu? in his... integration policy?
the most humble boyscout if there was one...
back in the turkish warehouse?
slave labour... i asked one of the workers:
more of this garlic paste? a shy monolingual smile...
and back to fucking work...
turkish is spoken openly...
the slaves work... they work because they only
speak turkish... the one cashier in the place speaks
random hello thank you and what not...
the rest? seasonal workers...
turks being fuckers to turks...
n'est ce pas? i don't see the english coming in:
with their paladin home office h'white knights...
i've seen too much: but not quiet enough...
and here's me... nazi blitz herr-kommandant... whatever...
yes... but no, no hugo boss! i don't even have
a hugo boss suit creases to match!
so what am i? goat herder and giraffe anal fucker
doing the buraq prayer on a ladder...
buraq... funny... it's also called a beetroot from
where i sip my silent tongue... in that infamous
brine of thought...
but there's no gloating about still speaking your own
tongue among the natives...
you retain your tongue:
because you don't retain your own land...
if i am guilty of "nationalism"...
i have no land... my land in metaphysical terms:
is what begins and ends with me... retaining
this tongue... from the beginning: to the end...
but not to gloat about it...
i still visit my grandparents... and...
no... they don't speak english...
so it's nice, to once in a while converse with my
gradfather's "self": that dementia cimena he has
kept to entertain himself: given he finds t.v. boring...
but this outright gloating:
Islamabad 2.0... fuck me... thank god this isn't
Warsaw 2.0... ethnic "concern": the poles being compared
to vermin? why, do, you, think?
the national proverb about emigration stands as:
we will not congregate...
we will not speak to each other,
we will avoid each other...
we will be foreigners to each other,
because? we are a jealous nation...
we are a jealous people...
we can forsake family in a foreign land...
we will forsake family in a foreign land...
we will not be a family in a foreign land...
that's how... Paul-lacks "integrate"...
if you ain't one: you don't need to know one...
i'm just telling you what i heard from the donkey's lisp...
that one donkey... among the four horsemen of
the "apocalypse"... Sancho Sancho Panzzi... Io...
"i"? oh... grave status... must be a rallying cry for:
"it's impor-ta-nance": its is no: it's important...
and yes: i too have to mind...
the english word games...
like: i would have been admitted to Ilford County High...
if... i didn't acquire this language...
it's not like i was some former colony / COMMONWEALTH...
attache... parents came over 'ere...
fucked... spoke the gulag english and i didn't speak
any naive-native...
commonwealth... i known that term...
the polish-lithuanian commonwealth also included
the ukrainians, the estonians,
the latvians... the belarusians...
the moldovians... some czechs... some germans...
but the wealth was born in a shared enterprise
of the crown: which was paul's lack... paul-lacking...
st. paul was beheaded and:
st. peter died from a brain haemorrhage being left:
upside-down for too long... oh no...
the "stigmata" didn't kill him...
because i can spew and see what else is happening?
white flight? no... i'm pretty sure the hebrews leave
first... they only "retain" staying "behind" if they
have their old mothers and grannies bound
to an anchor of dementia and care homes to bother about...
like in Ilford, Gants Hill, Barkingside...
first the hebrew flight... then... THEN the white flight...
unless... a white incursion from:
the BEAST FROM THE EAST contra:
JESUS IS COMING... LOOK BUSY...
and they don't really call them anything akin:
golden sultanas in turkey...
golden... raisins...
Sultan of Brew-nigh?
dark raisins really do look different to sultanas...
but in the case of golden "sultanas"?
still fucking bread 'n' butter pudding...
- but why wouldn't i peer into the canvas of multi-culturalism?
i'm not invading... i was supposed to be
having a sleep-over in England:
yonder! Argentina! yonder! Canada! or H'america!
best this hot pile of shit should i come across
any other: none will beat this mess i ferment in!
- oh i think i've integrated...
i'm a homeless polack in my own head...
after all: i am writing in english: "i think"...
but then if you'd peel this most obvious language layer...
you wouldn't find an englishman beneath it!
would you? where the post-colonial guilt tripping?
oh wait... not there...
white this... white that...
funny... south america... south america doesn't seem
to be much complaining about having
received the baptism / communion with the spanish
or the portugese language...
they're still catholics like mad down there...
maybe the aztec "thing" wasn't all that great...
ah... now it makes sense...
they were a catholic empire...
not some bogus protestantism:
after all: people would rather believe a stone spoke
a lie than if a person of flesh and bone would
ever speak the truth...
the british empire was a "dialectical" empire...
stretch that as far wide into your imagination and then...
come back amog the properly tanned olives
and Olivers of Hey-Zeus' of Barfelona!
and the catholics kept them...
and they don't mind speaking spanish...
like: what the fuck? if you think i'd be strapped
to a russian tongue, think twice...
i'd sooner be speaking cousin-german...
which i am... anglo-saxon... which is:
no... it's a host of languages... the people and their organic
bollocks with their st. george's flag are one "thing":
the language? another...
language will evolve quicker than the people
and their prejudices... self-evident - graffiti for starters.
and their "prejudices"...
the israelites also have them -
how many of them are not the sort of bilingual
and polyglot most christians are used to, via the propaganda
stereotypes? the israelites who settled and "forgot"
their nomadic roots... if they keep stressing
theior tetragrammaton: one poor schmuck is going
to catch up to them: over-complicating the mystery...
just like the catholic church would:
over-complicate mysticism with a need for
hierarchy and competition!
after a while trying to straighten a banana
is not really about straightening a banana but about:
creating the first didlo; no?
oh i know i'm not in england...
i once visited... Cheltenham...
i felt the same sort of sickness derived from
a monochromatic body... a mono-culture...
call it what you like... i felt sick in the same way
that i feel sick when passing via Warsaw...
yes... a very English city...
London... London... nope... well who the hell was expecting
this siamese behemoth replica of:
Paris was Paris... circa 2004... after that?
i don't know... London? even outskirts of London...
circa 1997... sure thing... even the Kosovo asylum
seekers left Ilford when the turmoils ended...
now? what happens when people congregate with no
apparent "ulterior" purpose of all the overwise
same purposes elsewhere?
there is a reason for why so many people have
decided to congregate here...
and it has so little to do with england and the english that...
outside of London? you can still savor
your, pristine whittle england...
go as far as cheltenham...
excuse such exceptions like Birmingham...
or Manchester... fuck off to Glasgow...
see your whittle england turn into: scots are y'er up: impromptu!
for the fucking trolls and rolling Rs...
tartar mc'squeak mac-guire...
that's what i heard last time i was there:
catholics stress Mc... and the protestants stress Mac...
same MacMc for shit: a same shite... a same book...
"apparently" a "different" bed-time LOL.
i still can't find it impossible to find the humble blue indian
"integrating" into this otherwise rude society...
i mean: these people are unbelievable...
i actually want to cook their "smelly" food...
they're worse than the chinese!
they have no i.q. baggage and / or that socippathic
edge for a "prusuit" of: crab meat, bucket...
climbing the everest...
maybe that's my story... a stupid enough people
from india decided to: brave it via siberia...
and they became slavs...
and the romani people tagged along...
like this "neanderthal", "missing link" concerning...
the experiments that took place in Siberia
with regard to the Ceylon bush-monkeys
(high school joke... in-group... no out-group preferences),
because there's where my darwinistic histioriology
leaves me at... the gates of India...
sure as shit not this grand cum-Africa "history"...
well no shit Sherlock?
if i come from Africa, "originally"?
what's the etymological root?
give me one... just one...
give me one african word that i might, sort of,
be speaking, now?
retarded hierogylphs of the pharaohs...
puke owl eye, poke pyramid: no decimals after delta...
because i'm sure i can share some etymological
back-tracking toward India...
perhaps the time-frame of reaching as far
back to Africa is... not exactly rooted in words...
but forms... last time i checked...
or didn't... rather... what came first...
the letter D (Δ) delta... or...
Pythagoras and the right-angle triangle?
did the form: the concept of a triangle - did...
was the triangle a priori...
and delta a posteriori?
"d" before the union of 3?
angles... like... finding the circle...
but... "squashed"?
chicken and the egg bystander...
what came first? delta (the letter)...
or... a triangle (the form)?
people must have said: (d)amn it!
we have a wheel! yes...
but! but!
L and \ and Γ and \ - no point having a wheel...
no point rope and plug and...
we need a... (la)DD(er)!
bigger picture! focus! H (rugby came much much
later) H...
i still don't know: playing man's advocate...
the letter D came prior to the concept
of a triangle?
i'm sure someone did ditto a doodle of a D
prior to a triangle...
what? Γ and / ? isn't that... monkey-climbing
with a weight? yes... shit pulling you down?
exercise... like: once upon a time people ran from
tigers... or ran to pulverize the phalanx...
now people run for bad knees...
whatever... i need a refill.