freak)

but the overall tone of the work was

I felt

tinged with intellectual

elitism—the pretentious soprano voices and the

general presentation.

I was both abashed and honored that

the composer had lent so much effort and

musical learning to my work.

at the same time I felt that the overall

effect was anti-life, anti-me, anti-the-clarity

of directly seeking joy, pain,

anything reasonable or

sufficient.

it was the same old con, the same old

snobbism, the same old murderous kiss

of death clothed in a creative

act.

so I wrote the gentleman back, “you know,

I have certain problems, one of them

being with instruments.

some instruments which I dislike

are the piano, the violin and the soprano

voice, especially the latter.

the human voice besides being basically

ugly also reminds me of the human

race

and one of the last things I want to

think of and one of the first things I

want to get away from when I listen to

classical music is

the human

race.

I write for the same reason.

is it possible that you can rewrite this

whole thing

without using the above-mentioned

instruments?”

I haven’t heard from this composer

since.

which is part of my plan.

the other part being to antagonize,

deplete, expose and shame

the thousands of practitioners of

the arts in all of their forms

who have been subsidized by

snobbery, dullness, and the willful

push toward fame

which has left us with

centuries of accepted

and immensely admired

works of

art of

which

all too many

are surely

useless,

worthless,

fake

and so supremely boring

that we think that

they certainly must be

something

real.

a curious thing

I have known a great many women

and one common little quirk

that I have

noticed

occurs most often when eating

out.

I will be speaking

and perhaps it will not be

vitally interesting

but the lady will suddenly

turn her face away from me,

and will gaze across the

room intently

at a group at another

table.

most often I will simply

stop what I am

saying and wait for

her attention to

return.

at other times I will say,

“oh, is it somebody you

know?”

or,

“is it something

interesting?”

“no,” they will

answer.

and if the lady then

rises and goes to

the restroom

I will check the group

at the table

who stole her

attention

and see only a bevy

of quite common

dolts.

or

I will be speaking

and a group will

enter and as

they walk by

her attention will shift

and her eyes will

feast on them

as if she had seen

something

extraordinary.

I don’t bother to

check out these

newcomers myself.

I feel their

death-glow

as they walk

past.

now, what I

mean to say here is that

I might often be

a bore

and not worth

listening to

but then I wonder

why the ladies

are there with

me in the

first

place?

I will admit