Date: Sat, 6 Feb 1999 00:52:38 -0500 (EST)
From: Marsha Faizi <mfaizi-AT-rbnet.com>
Subject: Re: Ariosto - Nietzsche's 'Open sea' (fwd)


Ariosto wrote:
  
>  You are just saying this to try to seduce me, you know what I like.

Yes, of course, I know what you like. If you met me in real life, I would
not have to seduce you. There would be no need. 

I do have an appreciation of Baroque. I studied writing with a famous writer
who used Baroque as an impetus. It worked well.

>Boy that Toshiro is starting to really like you Shaheena. 

What's not to like? Everyone likes me. I am adorable. 

>If he calls
>you Shaheena and you like it I am going to be truly upset. 

Well, you are cute when you are jealous. I love you but I don't belong to
anyone, Ariosto. Neither do you, you little hypocrite. Swaying this way and
listing that way. You are such an adulteress. That's all right. I love an
exhibitionist. I enjoy a moving target. 

>He has
>changed sinced he interrupted your enjoyment of the birthday cake.

Who interrupted? That motherfucker exploded big time. 

If he has changed, then, no doubt, it is for the better. 

>> >you would much rather listen to born to run 
>> 
>> Well, yeah, The Boss and all that crap. I missed Springsteen actually
>> because I reckon, at that time, I was more into Rock Lobster, something like
>> that. And Run DMC. 
>> 
>  Never heard of Rock Lobster, your basic rock band? Did you really
>like them and now listen to them rarely?

B52s. What can I say? You heard one rock band, you've heard them all. 

>> >or violent femmes. For
>> >nostalgia you would put on the clash, cure, jam, japan, the smiths, elvis
>> >costello, no, actually this is probably all after your time.
>> 
>> Oh, yes, baby, long after my so called time. For me, you have to go all the
>> way back to Hendrix and Joplin and Morrison and Jefferson Airplane and that
>> Woodstock bullshit. Beatles and Stones. Herman's Hermits, already. The
>> Kinks. I remember when Fleetwood Mac was avant garde stuff. Back in the
>> sixties, you had to smoke a ton of mescaline treated marijuana to ever even
>> have heard of Fleetwood Mac. God help me, I remember when Pink Floyd was
>> avant garde. Worse than that, I remember when The Grateful Dead were avant
>> garde. 
>> 
>  You are ancient and old, near death and dust. 

Old as Hades.

>We need a vacumm
>cleaner on this list. 

I got enough dust, already, you could never suck it all up. Not even with a
Eureka.

>That was really mean what you said to the masked
>phantom. 

You are wrong. I could never mistreat one with so dense a mask. I am his
angel of music. I provide the voice for his song. It just gets mixed up when
it comes to the rope climbing and the chandelier swinging. I will not stay
on the ground, Ariosto. I refuse. 

>Snuff out the candle in the cell if you can, 

I love the cell. It is my home. I am no better nor any worse for the fact of
my vagina. This is my home before any man ever came to it. This is my
dwelling and the purpose of the cell is to expell and release. You want to
come inside? I will kick you out. My solitude is my pleasure. 

>your every
>movement risking paralysis, 

Not anymore, boy. I have learned the method of that game. No one stops me. I
can take all of you and give you back in one swift jolt. 

>the emptying out of your roll, 

What role? My womanliness? It is nothing to me. You want to fuck a man in a
woman's body? Can be an eerie feeling but not one without pleasure. My
biological form is quite feminine. I was born with the proper X. But I can
fuck you, babe. Just like a man.  

>the slow
>removal of your veils and clothes, black you say...

You start to remove any of it and, trust me, it may be scarlet or violet or
blue or green but, by the time that you remove it, it will be black. 

>and naked, face to
>face. 

I am quite lovely in my human form, Ariosto. There is no way that you could
find me repulsive. You touch me, I die. It is that quick. 

The only thing that you have to keep in mind is that my death means your
death. I touch you, you are forever changed. 

>> I hate to tell you this, Ariosto, but I remember quite well when Elvis
>> turned twenty five. My sister and I considered that he was quite an old man
>> at twenty five. 
>  
>  O my God, you *are* ancient. You are not ugly in real life are you? 

I was four years old.

Ask Edward. He has my photograph. I am twelve years older than you. In the
way that I look, one would say thirty seven or thirty eight. I am immature. 

>> Back in my day, babe, you did not trust anyone over the age of thirty. I
>> still don't. Think I trust you, Ariosto? Fuck, no. Not for a minute. Hell,
>> you are thirty four and over the hill already. In my ancient book, you are
>> dead meat. 
>> 
>  You don't know how horny I get sometimes.

Well, I can understand that. But I can say that I do not look so terrible
that you could need to be horny to want me. Ask Edward.

>> I know enough not to trust myself. Learned that the hard way.
>> 
>> I trust my kids. They like Puff Daddy and Busta Rimes. Well, I can dig it.
>> The sound has already blown out my hearing but that's all right. Who needs
>> ears anyway?  
>> 
>> Beyond hearing, there is always Bach. 

Yes, babe. Thank God. Puff is all right. A good kid. But, sometimes, one
needs the musty vegetables.

>> Smoke a bowl and relax. Smoke one for me while you're at it. I am allergic
>> to that shit. Did too much when I was a young'un. All I have to do is light
>> one up and I get these hallucinations of Kennedy and Johnson and Nixon and
>> Kent State and the Chicago How Many Ever and Martin Luther King and Malcom X
>> and Che and your molotov coctails and your H. Rap and your Weathermen and
>> your Viet Nam and your sit-in's and your be in's and your sleep in's and
>> your Merry Pranksters and your Purple Haze and your coffins full of friends
>> and your My Lai massacres. All that sixties crap. 
>> 
>  Yeah, all those televised references, 

Televised? When I was a kid, it was real. Hell, I did my homework to the
various assassinations. What was a week without a political murder? 

>i am very familiar with them,
>you must know by now how much I like historical detail.

It was my childhood and adolescence. I was eleven when the first Kennedy was
shot. Historical detail, hell! It was an everyday thing. One adjusted.

>> I break out in hives and start throwing up big time. 
>> 
>> The sixties was this bad trip thing, you know. Peace and Love and
Quadraplegia. 
>> 
>> I just can't do the marijuana thing. Too many memories.
>> 
>  Are you really serious on this one? 

Extremely serious. Grass is a bad trip for me. Last time I smoked it, I
threw up ten or twelve times and I broke out in whelps. I went to bed and I
said, "Please God, don't let me feel like this in the morning."

>I think we need to do some
>negotiating here.

If you like it, smoke it. I do not think that it does you any harm. Smoke
it, already. Get high as hell. No way that that could ever bother me. I like
the smell. But, last time I smoked it, I became so violently ill that I
decided that I would never do so again. 

If you took a drug and it made you violently ill, would you take it again? I
doubt it. Last time I smoked it, I was about thirty and I was at a party. I
had been bypassing the joint. Finally, everyone was stoned enough that no
one would take it from me. It was barely lit so I smoked the whole thing alone. 

I had marijuana the first time when I was about fifteen. As a kid, I loved
it. I smoked so much one summer that I was plumb stupid--not to mention the
fine Hashish and the opium treated and mescaline treated stuff. 

By the time that I was twenty, it made me very ill. I could not do it. I
tried to fake it but I could not cover up the sickness. 

Ariosto, I am hyperactive. What do you do when you smoke grass? Well, I
cannot stand that. Sitting still scares me to death. When I was fifteen, I
was with people who were much older. They would be all relaxed and I would
be saying, "Get up. You have to take a look at this thing or that thing." I
am naturally hyper. Weed just worsens it, to say the least. When I was a
kid, I just went with it. I would be the one up in the middle of the room
talking about evolution and the need for all monkeys to get up off their
butts. I just could not stand all that sitting around. 

You could not want me to smoke marijuana. It does not effect all people the
same way. For you, I reckon it is no more than drinking a beer. A nice high.
For me, it is this violence. It is horrible. I break out and throw up. My
resting heart rate is about 120. Usual normal is 60-80. On weed, my pulse is
greater than two hundred. It makes me hyper to the point of insanity. You
with marijuana is equal to me without marijuana. 

You smoke it, babe, and you are welcome. But there is no way that you could
want me to smoke. Remember Jack, The Ripper? You cannot want me to smoke a
joint.


>> You young'uns would not know good weed if it ran up and bit you on the ass.
>> Well, you are better off not knowing.
>> 
> You are going to get me so high.

You smoke the shit and leave the rest to me.

>Ariosto
>> Faizi   
 Love, Ariosto
 Shaheena Faizi 
Love,
Shaheena