From: Gary S. Gevisser
Sent: Friday, October 3, 2003 1:01 PM PT
To: Kathy Gevisser Danziger; Melvin Gevisser; Neil Gevisser
Cc: rest including Clive Gurwitz; Emile Myburgh; Po-Li Pollak; Robert.M.Ferrell – bankofamerica; Cliff Benn; Aaron"BrownNose" Brown; Mark Weinstein; Merrick Wolman; Devin Standard
Subject: Happy New Year and well over the farce-fast.

 

 

At 8:28AM PST, 3 hours ago exactly, I got off the phone with “mother” who called to wish me a whole bunch of gibberish and so I repeated for her during this 14 minute and 47 second phone call that began at 8:14AM PST the ad that I plan to run in every single English and Afrikaans newspaper this coming Yom Kippur, an ad which was first presented to the world last evening on Professor Aaron “BrownNose” Brown’s eRaider.com website, specifically, The Buck Stops Here.

 

Assuming I don’t have any further distractions my plan is to get a follow up email to Emile Myburgh out today that will include suggestions on the ad that will look something along the following lines baring in mind South Africa may not have the so-called False Claims Acts that we have here in the United States that were introduced during the American Civil War, also known as Lincoln Laws that provides for the right of “private action” against those who are abusing the laws of the land assuming of course one can also meet the test of “largeness” not that we would be suggesting that any Jewish people be required to have any more of our penii lobbed off:

 

Gary S. Gevisser & Associates
A Name From Here You Can Trust Over

INFORMERS WANTED.

 

WE WILL PAY 20% OF THE NET RECOVERY RESULTING FROM INFORMATION U PROVIDE REGARDING PERSONS AND THEIR ENTITIES THAT HAVE VIOLATED THE CURRENCY EXCHANGE CONTROL ACTS AND HAVE CIVIL LIABILITY AS A RESULT,　 Blah blah 

 

Followed by a hyperlink or too that will take folks perhaps to sumthing along these lines:

 

“…---…Of course it would be only “wishful thinking” that I would slip up at this time my being all but certain that once a member of the news media gets “with it” and of course I remain optimistic that Poli-Pollak is hard at work, digging deep, not farting up his place of work, preparing possibly to join a Jewish congregation not thinking though of fasting on Yom Kippur, the farce that it is, which had me for so many years while growing up in South Africa pondering when it came time for certain underage members of the community to leave our Orthodox Jewish Temple on Silverton Road, Durban, South Africa, when it came time for prayers for the so-called “dead” why Rabbi Weiss didn’t use that occasion to declare “loud & clear” the following:

 

As much as it pains me at this hour, particularly the fact that I may not be able to be with my family to celebrate the ‘breaking of the fast’ since it is unlikely I will get support from any of the other leaders of community when members of BOSS don’t simply wiretap my telephone but decide to arrest and then ban me, I am compelled by my read of the First Commandment, ‘I am the Lord Thy God, who delivered the Children of Israel out of the land of Egypt out of the House of Slavery, never to return’ which to me also means that we cannot tolerate the slavery of others which is what this Apartheid regime has implemented nationwide, no different to what the Nazis did during WWII and what the English did to the Afrikaner people during the Anglo Boer War of 1899-1900, to instruct each and every one of you here today, parents and children alike, to leave in unison this place of worship that has been vilified by the likes of the Lazarus family who are all seated below me to my right as well as above to my left, and to remind you all what I have you read aloud, each and every Friday Night that is as holy as this day of Atonement, ‘Guard my tongue from evil and my lips from speaking vile… May the Lord Bless you and keep you, may he cause his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto u …” [sic].

 

Mom’s initial response, stopping me just as I finished the word “English” was, “What a bunch of nonsense. No Black people were gassed in South Africa, blah blah.”

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　

I let mother vent a bit further,

 

“Why r u doing this, this is all in the past. It is all over with… Cliff Benn, Sidney Lazarus, Roy Essakow, Norman Lazarus, Merrick Wolman, Sol Kersner, Arnold Zulman, my friend Chief Katsha Buthalazy blah blah have enuf to deal with right now without you bothering them, they have mouths to feed, chickens to hatch, feathers to ignite all in preparation for the holiest of holy days, what exactly is your problem” [sic]?

 

I then asked mother how her heart was doing and whether she felt that our cousin Dr. Barry Molk, perhaps the best cardiologist in the world who was the “flower boy” at her & dad’s wedding had any culpability in her now claiming to be “senile”?

 

“Mom who is to say that Barry didn’t fart sum 50 odd years ago having inhaled something Sol Moshal farted out that is only now showing up in your psyche; so just tell when did you last have a cat scan which is not to say that your husband Alan Zulman should be contacting our friends who live most of the year in St Johns to bring an action against Barry’s insurance carrier, albeit Barry probably having simply recommended that you have a frontal lobotomy and the surgeon in Bristol, England who performed the lifosuction and of course I know you have never had plastic surgery, got confused with Barry’s accent and while performing your umpteen bypasses also attached Alan’s penis to your mouth” [sic]?

 

Christ only help me if Marie gets wind of this email, agree?

 

And then I could have sworn I heard mom fart before letting her know that another of our cardiologist friends, Paul "Cry 4 me" Tierstein, was ranked just number 3 in the world in his profession which left open 2 spots for Barry before asking her if she wouldn’t mind if I began reading her the ad again, letting her know,

 

“I don’t think u r hooked up to The Internet, a GodSend, agree? Although I suspect you live in the past when it suits you, much like u only agreeing to debate people who agree with you” [sic]?

 

And so Zena Gevisser Zulman [ZGZ] then bit her “vile” tongue and allowed me to read the ad one more time, this time I read ever so slowly the first section,

 

INFORMERS WANTED. WE WILL PAY 20% OF THE NET RECOVERY RESULTING FROM INFORMATION U PROVIDE REGARDING PERSONS AND THEIR ENTITIES THAT HAVE VIOLATED THE CURRENCY EXCHANGE CONTROL ACTS AND HAVE CIVIL LIABILITY AS A RESULT,　

 

And be4 I began to read the section which deals with the sermon Rabbi Weiss SHOULD HAVE given that would have set the standard for the rest of the community to shape up or ship out, I suggested to mother,

 

“Such a sermon could have put a lid on the nonsense that us white-wheaty-eating whites were helping out the Black savages to become civilized, hell bent on killing one another, far more disingenuous than us folks who invented guns to replace spears and of course it was just a matter of time before our slaves would have invented weapons of mass destruction, instead of his MAN FROM OUTER SPACE bullshit, agree” [sic]?

 

Alan Zulman’s wife with Alan clearly an earshot away was just about to interrupt me once again when I said,

 

“Please, dearest mom, let me finish and even though you are not used to letting others have their peace when it interferes with your agenda I will not only give you ample opportunity to respond but more importantly I will even pay for you to place an ad of equal size in every single newspaper where my ad is placed, bearing in mind that for every moment I stay on the phone wasting my precious time with you I could be converting heathens over to the Islamic faith, blah blah” [sic].

 

I got the sense that the Queen Bee was not paying that much attention to what I saying at this point, frothing at the bit though, to take down notes exactly as I went about articulating the ad, perhaps thinking that she could contact Julius Gurwitz Esq. in Israel as well as her media friends in the South African and put out an “All Points Bulletin” alert, no doubt forgetting once again the power of The Internet.

 

Not surprising ZGZ never interrupted me as I read every last word, ever so carefully and when I was finished there was this “pregnant pause” and of course although it was Alan Zulman who taught me, “Can’t is not in my vocabulary, the impossible shall be done, miracles take a little longer!” I doubt that his second wife, our mother now close to 100, is pregnant, and of course I could have stuck it to mother by asking about her dog, remember her edict in her and Alan’s book, The Winking Cat, about how furry pets interfered with human beings making love, a subject matter I intend to take up with Mr. Krinsk Esq. when we get together next Wednesday for lunch at Rainwaters in downtown San Diego, just a “hop-jump-and-a-scotch” [sic] from the gas lamp district where I suspect his current partner, Howard Finkelstein Esq, a former U.S. Attorney likes to hang out, which reminds me I need to get from Kim, the receptionist at Finkelstein and Krinsk, Howard’s cell phone number, just in case Jeffrey goes “missing.”

 

Once ZGZ knew she was beat, that no matter how much she protested to me that her husband didn’t hire just like Cliff Benn and others who followed suit, “slave laborers”, she then went on to attack, u guessed wrong if you said, Julius Gurwitz, who spent most of WWII in a prisoner of war camp and whose son Clive is also copied on this email, but rather, our father,

 

“Your dad was the only one in the family not formally opposed to the Apartheid Government, blah blah, 　I was the one who worked with Arlie Arenstein, blah blah, your eldest brother Neil wrote the most ant-Apartheid book of poetry at the time, Picking Up The Peaces blah blah” [sic].

 

And of course I never asked ZGZ how she and her brother, councilman, Joe Ash, who published Neil’s mostly “blank verses” went about marketing this rather brilliant masterpiece and more importantly why it wasn’t such a blockbuster success.

 

Now, please, take a very careful look at the last hyperlink. You should be able to enlarge it on your screen by keeping the cursor to the lower right side of the web page, but just in case you cannot read the words, this is what is written below a picture of all 4 us.

 

“An exciting trip abroad lies ahead for the well-known Durban modeling and fashion expert, Mrs. Zena Gevisser, and her too elder children, Neil and Katy-Louise, pictured above with their brothers Melvin and Gary Steven. The trio leaves Durban by air on Thursday for Europe and during the next month will visit Israel, Rome, Venice, London, Paris, Madrid and Lisbon.

 

Neil and Kathy will be returning to Durban in time for the next school year, but Mrs. Gevisser who acts as a marketing and packaging consultant for an international surgical dressings and cosmetics firm, will further her investigations in this field in America.

 

Two highlights of her American tour will be visits to Oleg Cassini’s ‘fashion’ salon and the World’s Fair in New York” [sic].

 

Now I threw in the “Steven” for too reasons. One it allows me to hyperlink the email I sent to a Bank of America employee who is copied on this email and the other is that whenever mom would get upset with me for misbehaving, which was nothing quite as ‘out of control’ as I understand Neil was at about age 7, she would call me by my middle name, “Steven” which also brings me to the $3,200 pair of Christian Anguitine alligator shoes that had Mr. Jeffrey R. Krinsk Esq. putting his foot down, remember Jeffrey has me protecting his rear end as the alligators chew away at his elbows.

 

While trying to make up for the insults I threw at the French when Marie+I+the too kids visited there this summer, nothing bothering me as much as when the tour guide leader would say when commenting on a ancient relic from another civilization now in French hands,

 

“This was another gift to the French people.”

 

Mr. Krinsk, on his recent trip, not only had to stay in a more posh hotel closer to the Arc de Triumph, not in the least bit bothered by the additional gasoline fumes, he felt obviously quite obligated in choosing a hotel equidistant from the high fashion district that would allow his wife, Campbell Soup, to wear down some of the 170 odd pairs of shoes she currently has which is “controlled” by what I understand to be a rather unique cataloguing system that contains a color coded photo of each pair of shoes that allows Campbell Soup to go to the designated storage area for that box.

 

My sense is that Campbell Soup bought so many new pair of shoes the French offered to give her an advance viewing of their spring collection, but I could be wrong, there was so much noise in the background from earthmoving equipment as Jeffrey, Pypeetoe and I ate outside of Rainwaters this past Wednesday, to mention little of my being under the strictest orders coming directly from Campbell Soup herself not to discuss her sex life with Jeffrey; so far Jeffrey hasn’t felt it necessary to add his penny’s worth of suggestions, at least in so far as it affects his incredible, and constant love making with Campbell Soup.

 

I suspect that Jeffrey possibly finds such opulence outrageous, perhaps understanding if someone had 22 or 24 pairs of shoes max, ½ darker colors and ½ lighter and why he decided to hand over a $100 bill to the clerk in the store just so that the incredibly good looking attendant would try his luck on someone like my wife whose shoe collection keeps Prada in business; certainly no one else in their right mind would pay such prices unless of course they have been run over by a truck and have scar tissue that is rather sensitive.

 

And of course I also love Campbell Soup, constantly engaged in “risk assessment” in the event I cannot count on the likes of Jose or his 18 siblings and 10,000 odd close relatives to help pitch a tent of the Krinsk’s tennis court, having to go “cap in hand” begging Campbell Soup to let me hang in the guest house.　

 

That last hyperlink contains a “modified” scanned copy of a rather important document that is kept in a folder that was last night deposited in a file cabinet in Marie’s garage. Next to the cabinet as of yesterday afternoon just before a utility person showed up to get the houses juices flowing, specifically the telephone system, was a brand new red surfboard that is now missing and of course be4 accusing anyone I first looked at my dog to c if he knew anything, remember now I have a Super Italian Greyhound that is getting bigger by the minute and of course he costs me an arm and a leg to feed, each and every day.

 

I just got a call from Jonathan who wants me to drop off his trumpet that is in the back of Marie’s pathfinder which I am driving, not quite a shofar, and of course if people want to call me now the chauffeur that is fine as well, time to finally break down the walls, especially since the so-called “Chinese Walls” only allow the more rapacious of our species to accumulate more wealth which only devastates the next generation, from shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves in 3 generations, agree?

 

Now getting back to this point of insurance, with all the distractions I am having for each second that goes by the likes of Warren “BO” Buffet are allowed to perpetuate the myth of their solvency, beefing up their reserves, which is the equivalent of giving them a second lease on life.

 

And so folks are beginning to find out why it may not pay at this time to enter into a lease with me, especially if u r not certain I will be able to get out Part 8 of the 8 part mini series to Diana Henriques which spells out in no uncertain not only how rigged the insurance markets are, that “dove tails” the real estate market but that my solution although it would ensure full employment while bringing balance as well as solvency to the markets also means , however, the end of the gravy train for the likes of Warren “BO” Buffet and lesser known folks like Donny Gordon, the South African insurance mogul who like Sol Kersner is probably more solvent than any other two “players” in their respective fields of “gaming” and “insurance”, perhaps on the planet.

 

Now of course once I simply responded to mom with,

 

“You mean my dad, the World War II hero, who failed to unilaterally “act out” that up until quite recently u thought was simply throwing hand grenades out of the cockpit of his fighter-bomber, completing some 71 missions over enemy lines while you sat in the comforts of England, albeit underground, smoking up a storm although I seem to recall that you only started smoking in order to keep your hands warm which is probably the only real reason why your father decided to immigrate to warm, sunny South Africa soon after the war, albeit a cash millionaire but without quite the cozy Gevisser name, as in A Name From Here You Can Trust Over There, and tell me mom do I need to remind you that the vast majority of multi-millionaires and a handful of billionaires who contacted me after I ran the ad you actually wrote never even associated you with The Moshal Gevisser Group of Companies, many of whom where Indian who confirmed the stories you told me of the non-white employees of our family business crying when they heard not so much that the business had been sold but how my father and his grandfather were ‘down and out’, so highly respected my Dad and Grandpa Issy who were anything but pigs at the trough, more than a handful of folks now so trusting of me confirming in no uncertain terms that of all the white people they had come across in South Africa my father, in particular, was the ‘most color blind.’

 

Interesting wouldn’t you agree that you would often make the comment that Dad was color blind not being able to differentiate his ‘blues’ from his “greens” to mention little of the natural depression he experienced upon returning to South Africa to bury his mother, being confronted by members of the family who blamed his mother’s cancer on my incredible father having joined up to fight in the most elite of the services, not guys who got caught napping in fox holes scattered across north Africa to mention little of the French, one again, or even those who simply piloted planes with bombs dropped very often well above anti-aircraft fire from the ground or who like my friend Colonel Dwight Kroesch, most likely the first pilot to drop paratroopers behind enemy lines on D-Day, too or so days later, June 8^th 1945, I believe it was, my incredible grandmother, Katie Gevisser, with her heartbroken son alongside being buried, a graveside I have yet to visit, and who can forget one relation of my father’s actually coming at him with a knife.

 

So mom, where was I? Either way, remember Quantum Mechanics, the forerunner of the Digital Age that has now brought us The Digital Age, requires that we go ‘back & forth’ as opposed to going around in circles like dogs trying to catch our tails, so much so that we can constantly improve ‘the odds’ refining our ‘work product’ gathering more and more evidence, remembering that the better the evidence the better the proof, until such time as we can go with just one ‘hop jump-and-a-scotch’ without missing a skip, so annoying scratched video disks, from the end to the very beginning, which has been the focus of my attention for sum time, how it came to pass that folks like Pythagoras were ever so close but then for sum reason, so far I can only put it down to testosterone, all science and mathematics to mention little of art and technology got lost for sum 2,000 odd years while the masses were fed a whole bunch of garbage religion with commentaries coming from the likes of Rabbi Weiss, bought and paid for by Capos such as the Lazarus clan.

 

Now the next communication I would like to hear from you is a very clear signal of support, beginning with you agreeing to make the rest of the family members as certain as one human being can be that no matter what, whatever remains of your and Alan Zulman’s estate only winds up in my + Marie’s hands, period.

 

And of course if you want to be a chazir, i.e. a pig, and live like a hog liquidating all your remaining assists, be my guest and remember if in fact when it comes time for you to meet our maker and He turns to you and says, ‘What evidence do you have that The Pisser was not correct, that Einstein’s e=mc² is proof of both Evolution as well as my hand?’ then may only G-D help you, to repeat,

 

“May the Lord Bless you and keep you, may he cause his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto u…”

 

Please note that with every disconnect and remember just like there are phone records of the calls ZGZ made to me in Minehead back in December of 2001 that go to the heart of mother’s credibility, our friend Kerry Anderson believing I had gone “missing”, I have a rather “extraordinary” way of connecting up the dots which quite frankly I cannot fully explain not that any of you would be interested anyway, but which the likes of Vicky “Sticky” Schiff of the Wetherly Capital Group [WCG] felt was so overwhelming that she agreed to pay me a stipend far greater than I originally asked for, 10% of all her future earnings.

 

And remember Vicky’s business partners included the likes of Ronald Burkle and Dick Ziman who don’t exactly deal in chomp change, and of course you should know by now that Ronald Burkle besides for being the big kahuna supermarket king here in the United States got cigar chomping, former President Bill “Wallpaper” Clinton to “sign up” the instant this disgusting human being left the white house, in a shambles, I might add.

 

If nothing else this communication along with my communications to Dr. JBS’ attorney Mr. George G. Hurst Esq. as well as the WCG folks responsible for masterminding and executing the hijacking of the California Gubernatorial elections of November 8^th 2002, which you can access in the “extraordinary” hyperlink, a word, Ms. Schiff just absolutely loves, should place everyone on notice, that not only do I not scare easily I am “certain” that, not only was their always just one G-D, but that G-D exists, a part of him in each one of us, perhaps even more certain than the knowledge I have that both our parents did their very best, possibly the best of the very best, bearing in mind that evolution works ever so slowly, that to understand “love” one has to first recognize what it really means to trust as well as respect something else whether it be a human being or plant life or something even more fragile, most important one has to first know oneself.

 

I cannot tell any of you if you are good in the same way you cannot tell me whether I am good, only each of us know the whole truth and nothing but the truth, other than of course, G-D; moreover, no one should tell me how I should behave although I am all ears to improving my style and of course I could do with a new wardrobe but that would take time away from other things I consider important at this time including getting “the table” refurbished & “the mirror” hung in Marie’s neat little beach house that seems to me like G-D had more than a hand in designing as well as leading her as he does each one of us to do the right thing, to repeat the incredible words that came from the mind of my friend Devin Standard,

 

Subject: Re: ?If I am not for myself who is 4 me? And if I am only 4 myself, who am I? If not now, then when?

 

Gary:

Spot on!

Not much more can be said?

Any, and all moral highground is undermined if the minute one's proprietary

skin has been saved, one turns a blind eye to lesser, equivalent, or

greater evil. The fact that the gift of one's life has been spared

obligates one to, if not ruthlessly wield the sword of righteousness, to

at the very least, shine a light into the dark corners where evil

manifests. Otherwise you are abetting the Devil you've recently dodged. Cheers, D

 

 

And never to forget the incredible business plan Jeffrey R. Krinsk drew up this past Wednesday at Rainwater’s.

 

Time to wake up and count our incredible blessings from heaven.

 

My immediate plan after sending out this email and then dropping off JoNathan’s trumpet is to finish sanding down the table and helping Marie hang the mirror so that come the start of Yom Kippur I will be inviting friends and neighbors to participate in a feast and to hell with, once and for all, the concept of “feast & famines” and most all hypocrites who take up so much space on this incredible earth.

 

Don’t let a second, let alone an hour pass you by, no matter what, I know for a fact, that I can rely on both Jeffrey R. Krinsk and Devin Standard as well as others close to me to complete Manager Minute One, no matter what time of day or night my maker decides to give me a break; Pypeetoe now rising letting me know it is time to exercise, Healthy Mind↔Healthy Body.

 

Good Day.

 

Gary

 

Ps – I will check the email later for any ▲s.