Letters

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Tuesday
June 26, 2001

Absolute sophist

Dear Mr. Kazemi,

Sir, you are a dunce and an "absolute" sophist ["Cucumber is green"]. You have, however, picked up a few books in your days and have projected your psychological needs and shortcomings onto them. But I am writing all this with a smile on my face, so you don't need to get defensive, that's okay, we all came here on a jumbo-jet I had a window seat. Kept thinking, how did these bastards fly a piece of metal so large I am mainly writing this, because I have to deal with your sort on the daily basis.

I guess that's why I have decided to respond to you and not the sweethearts who critique literary output and wage the age old art or pornography debate; or those who measure their own pain whether they are for or against a ridiculously retro revolution-with-a-twist, in terms of a suicide blond on the run in a West End dive-Bar-for-Exiles-and-Writers, a young princes of a mythical Kingdom, the Leila of our dreams, whatever you want to call: that rich brat! Either puking or choking up. But I digress.

So, I see you have taken apart sentences and shown the absurdity of language through your own writings. Hurrah! So, welcome to the era of philosophical nonsense about a century too late! The party is over man, your cute little logical discoveries in terms that you define for us, with exact number of their dictionary meanings, have been bombed away and the remnants are filling up the supermarket paperbacks, Dr. Discovery.

The patriarch knows less than the Nintendo player, imagine that. That is what "there is nothing sacred" means or does it? Let's debate it! And the freaking absolute truth, or part truth, or the fucking Sein und Zeit for all I care: It's all bleeding smeared, man.

Come on, (to replicate one of your literary tropes,) welcome to the Brave New World at nine o'clock eastern, ten central, in syndication. So, water boils, and the quantity and quality of political prisoners around the world as compared with last years results bla bla bla - this rhetoric hasn't done the job, has it? One and Zero run the whole show, but it is fucking difficult to imagine them having any sort of reality So now we have brutes with scientific degrees.

Doctors and engineers galore Fucking great. And so we write and write, and take apart and paste back together hoping to impress, because we didn't get any pussy in High School (or dick for those so inclined, whether they knew it or still don't). And all the moralizing and intellectualizing, equipped with the French and the German words; all the Nietzsche an Mustaches and the Arabic beards; all the Hafiz quotes and Qur'an references with verse numbers and khatte khaanaa don't mean diddly!

Sorry mate, just join the machine and do what you can, pipe dreams are meant to be enjoyable, not a downer. Disco was for a while the way to go man, try to learn to dress and shake your bon bon a little, or if it is more appealing, get together in a sausage party and declaim Arabic verses and weep, whatever floats your shit, just be mellow and don't throw rocks or blow up airplanes. Women's rights are coming up, and so you'd have to edge off your harsh rhetoric a bit, but rap on brother, you are a sweetheart.

Do I sound like a reformist? A deconstructionist, a dentist? Do I amuse you? Maybe I have "surrender[ed] to hedonism[!]" Well, let's see what hedonism means bust out the dictionary. But you are a revolutionary of sorts somewhere, and that is attractive in a man. Or that's what I hear.

For example when you talk about the American constitution and that famous performative speech act, I suddenly begin to reverie about how fucking fabulous it is that there was a revolution and how wonderful it would be if I could appear in a uniform marching to a beat with nice blue coats, or the green army overcoats that went so well together with the 3 day beard and sweaty forehead! Grrr! I was suddenly a Yankee Doodle.

Ah, and I also liked the little bit about "I think" and "I feel." There you venture into the vernacular and mix it up with the founding father jargon and it is sort of groovy. I felt really contextual zed just then, it was a warm and fuzzy sensation.

Rap on, brother!

Ami

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