From:
Sent: Saturday, May 14, 2005 1:30
PM PT
To:
Cc: rest;
Subject: ...---...seasoned
messengers...---...
T4 – I changed my
plans for this morning waiting to hear back from you following you reading what
I sent you mother yesterday spelling things out rather laboriously that may
have her going back to the time she gave birth to you wondering what she had
done right and/or wrong in a previous lifetime to have found herself now
“face
to face” with me
forcing her, your father their friends and most of all Nelson Mandela more of a
hero to the masses around the world than even Robert F.
Kennedy to reexamine
how they want their epilogues to read to mention little time and again and
again the scoundrel Attorney General of the United States of America setting
you folks up big time back in June 1966 only wanting to meet with certain
individuals when visiting with us in Durban, South Africa that would not prove
embarrassing in his race for the Presidency of the United States enough to make
you as invigorated as me or vomit to death?
My G-D, when will each and every literate human
being wake up to the “real world”?
It is very possible you tried within the hour you
said it would take you to get online to call the land line I suggested but I
had to move on, more pressing matters including taking care of my laundry over
at the Cliff House.
This is simply not the time for miscommunications,
i.e. it should have been obvious even if your were not copied on your mother
telling me to “get lost”
that it was just a matter of time before she decided to throw in her pitiful
“tTOo”
[sic] pennies worth of advice?
While you feel “sumwhat” [sic] alone
give some thought to those millions more likely billions of kids around the
world suffering a much worse possible fate than both you and I being gun downed
by another so very methodically brainwashed Shirhan Sirhan and
Lee Harvey Oswald?
What worse fate in hell,
hell again only here on earth than being “had”?
Becoming increasingly more
difficult in this Digital Age, A G-D-Send for coming up with excuses for being
“misinformed” especially the traitors amongst us who when faced with
such logical thought processing resort like our friend Beth to milking the blood of my great Jewish
brother,
“What is this. My mind
is open, my coherency has evolved because I can't figure
it out, because I do not think it right, for my self to say
your madd cause I
can't completely understand. I do not like to disregard any one
unless they try to doubt my beliefs. The only way I know to end this is to
say.
I am saved by the blood of
Christ, The Son of G-d.”
Interesting that Beth
would spell “G-D” with a dash replacing the “o” as Jewish
people are taught from the youngest of age, “sumthing” [sic] which
so learned
I do not know where that money came from [that
financed the enslavement, torture and mass murder of 6 million of OUR Jewish brothers and sisters came
from -- and it being some 60 years ago -- it is not
something I am fascinated by. It came from awful people I am sure.
I also do not know why I get your personal
e-mails. Frankly I am more interested in stopping the later than pursuing
the former.
Remember you have no choice in your parents but you
certainly can choose your friends and business partners, able to gauge surely
at this point how incredibly illogical someone such as Nelson Mandela, an
attorney, had to have been thinking when resorting to hitting “soft
targets” amongst us Lilly White Wheaty Eating South Africans hooked on
black slaves failing to take the advice of poor, poor “failed 3rd
World University of Natal, Durban, South Africa business-accounting
tutor” Gary, bearing in mind my Royal Mater when first arriving in South
Africa back in 1947 was more than a
fully fledged member of the South African Communist Party working for the likes
of Roley Arenstein?
No doubt Zena’s “quick mind”
so similar to my wife Marie’s it
isn’t even close to being funny, the result of being raised by her
grandmother who having escaped marauding Cossacks ingrained in my extraordinary
mother’s mind, “From shirt sleeves to shirt
sleeves in 3 generations”.
Worth mentioning again for new viewers and voyeurs
that not that many folks following WWII other than the Rothschilds,
Oppenheimers, Kennedys, probably not even Ari Onassis had like my extraordinary
mother’s father a million pounds Sterling in their back pockets to
mention little of my communiqué this past Thursday to the accountant and former
Israeli paratrooper son of
The audacity of your parents to be teaching you
things about watching out for the “sly English”
and when you do what they failed to do and tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing
but the truth they then left without choice reprimand you no different to my
rather amazing parents?
Lets get this show on the road shall we, a fast
moving train just passing by heading south, another most incredible day in May
here in wonderland, waking up at the crack of dawn to about 20 surfers making
the most of rather excellent surfing conditions.
First of all we should be thankful to G-D who I also
doubt is resting this Sabbath Day as mostly
Second, think about the advice you gave Adam Tucker who I will
be following up with in “Jew course” [sic] to mention
little of the most terrific champagne filled conversation Marie and I had with
Sebastian and Margarita Capella close to
midnight last night, us all celebrating life so intertwined with “G-D who art in heaven”,
Sebastian who will be spending the next 6 weeks in his home in Valencia, Spain
reminding us to be careful when motorcycling next month through Italy, pointing
out that here in the United States most road accidents have people ending up in
hospital whereas in Europe given the speeds that are traveled on the windy
roads it is “death”, the number of fatalities over there beginning
to drop “tho-ugh” [sic] because
of the high cost of insurance death payments, Europeans not yet apparently
figuring out that hospitalization costs can cause heart attacks, the pregnant
pause when I raised the now boring point of “What’s
with this preservation of life and limb when we all know when not sloshed on
great champagne surrounded by perhaps the greatest single art collection on the
planet that human population explosion is biggest and at the time easiest problem
to solve so long as we have not lost our minds” [sic] said
everything about how truly blessed Marie and I are to have Sebastian and Margarita Capella as
friends.
Margarita now in her seventies and suffering from MS
since in her late teens early twenties, no doubt one of the most beautiful
women in Sebastian’s class of 71 students studying art, getting the exact
same intensive training as Picasso, happens to be one of the exceptions to the
rule that people of “less intelligence”
are more susceptible to degenerative diseases which of course while raising
“sum” [sic] peoples’ blood pressure particularly those
milking the so plagued medical industry hell bent on keeping folks from getting
the right information that would allow more emphasis on
“prevention” letting G-D-NAture runs its natural course, also
raises the stakes for the same folks to get with the program to see to that
public monies get immediately redirected from bs medical research in to the
hands of parents and teachers ensuring that each and every child remains a
fricken genius from the start by first and foremost be entitled to clean
drinking water, the most basic and precious human right allowing kids to grow
up great to become independent thinkers, smart enough to figure out on their
own that to produce more offspring when we have in fact won the race for
survival of the fittest, hands down, has to be the most incredibly selfish act
imaginable.
Then again, while imagination is more important than
knowledge, knowledge is light.
Perhaps, you would like to house sit our incredibly
well lit homes while respecting the 4 Ps, People, Pets, Property and Plants when
Marie and I also check out Arnold’s father’s graveside in Austria
hoping to spend a little time in Kitzbuhel
and who knows I might run into Mr. Jost my mother’s most trusted private
Swiss Banker based in Zurich, Switzerland “altho-ugh”
[sic] for all I know Jost whose name my amazing father first heard about when
reading one of FAIRly recent missives
may have died of a heart attack surely when reading any one of them beginning
with my very first titled, Perspective One?
Kgotso!
[Word count 1971]
