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2002-04-26

Richard Milhouse Nixon
B. 1.9.13 Yorba Linda, California / D. 4.22.94 New York City
Stroke

I wanted to end Hate Speech Week with Sigmund Freud and me asking myself, Why project all this ire at all the other races? You’re just mad at the Jews.
With the other voice piping in, No—at your FATHER!
But then I wrote this:

A long shitty day—another. I weep over my sins—or I would, given encouragement. The usual doldrums, drats, interruptions, shake-ups. . .god knows what would happen if I ever left the house. Could I still handle it? People! Especially women! No—especially men! No—women. Never mind. Where three or more of either are gathered together—say, at the counter of a shop—I do not wish to be; I’ll come back when it isn’t so crowded. A phase—of avoidance; an impatience with this point in time—the way it’s smearing like a stubborn splatter mark; a clean slate is all I’d ask—but of whom?

And then I realized I’d forgotten about the IRISH.

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