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Are there any
niggers here tonight? Could you turn on the house lights, please, and
could the waiters and waitresses just stop serving, just for a second?
And turn off this spot. Now what did he say? "Are there any niggers
here tonight?" I know there's one nigger, because I see him back
there working. Let's see, there's two niggers. And between those two
niggers sits a kike. And there's another kike— that's two kikes and
three niggers. And there's a spic. Right? Hmm? There's another spic.
Ooh, there's a wop; there's a polack; and, oh, a couple of greaseballs.
And there's three lace-curtain Irish micks. And there's one, hip, thick,
hunky, funky, boogie. Boogie boogie. Mm-hmm. I got three kikes here, do
I hear five kikes? I got five kikes, do I hear six spics, I got six
spics, do I hear seven niggers? I got seven niggers. Sold American. I
pass with seven niggers, six spics, five micks, four kikes, three
guineas, and one wop. Well, I was just trying to make a point, and that
is that it's the suppression of the word that gives it the power, the
violence, the viciousness. Dig: if President Kennedy would just go on
television, and say, "I would like to introduce you to all the
niggers in my cabinet," and if he'd just say "nigger nigger
nigger nigger nigger" to every nigger he saw, "boogie boogie
boogie boogie boogie," "nigger nigger nigger nigger
nigger" 'til nigger didn't mean anything anymore, then you could
never make some six-year-old black kid cry because somebody called him a
nigger at school.
A Jew, in the dictionary, is one
who is descended from the ancient tribes of Judea, or one who is
regarded as a descendant from that tribe. That's what it says in the
dictionary, but you and I know what a Jew is: One Who Killed Our Lord...
there should be a statute of limitations for that crime. You can't put tits and ass on the marquee!...Why not?...Because it's dirty and vulgar, that's why not!... Titties are dirty and vulgar?...Okay, we'll compromise. How about Latin? Gluteus maximus, pectoralis majors nightly...That's alright, that's clean, class with ass, I'll buy it
A lot of people say to me, 'Why did you kill Christ?' I dunno, it was one of those parties, got out of hand, you know.
Communism is like one big phone company. (My friend) Carmelo's father had a barbershop with one chair and a poster in the window showing four styles of haircuts, and guaranteeing you surefire results in securing employment if you follow the tips on grooming: "The First Things an Employer Looks at Are Hair, Nails, and Shoes." An atomic-energy department head who looks at these qualifications in a job applicant would probably be a faggot (My friend) Carmelo's mother was
the manicurist and town whore. The symbols of my childhood are
gone--what a shame!--the country doctor, the town whore, village idiot,
the drunken family from the wrong side of the tracks have been replaced
with the communist, the junkie, the faggot, and the beatnik." I
sort of felt sorry for the damn flies. They never hurt anybody. Even
though they were supposed to carry diseases I never heard of anybody
saying they caught something form a fly. My cousin gave two guys the
clap and nobody ever whacked her with a paper Once
a week a big LaSalle would drive all the way out from the city to get
farm-fresh eggs. The chauffer was a little wizened old Englishman and
the owner was a woman who looked like Mary Astor. She was a very
grand-type lady, about 35. She said the farm was quaint and remarked how
fortunate I was that not cursed with the pressures of the city. She
began to bring me things--sweaters, shoes, even a tennis racket. I fed
her charitable id: "Oh gosh a real sweater, I always wanted one
with no patches!".... One day she forgot all about the eggs and
insisted on buying me a jacket....I told her I couldn't leave the stand.
She told the chauffer to get out and take over and that she would drive.
On the way back she pulled into a shaded area and stopped. We talked for
a long time....She intimated that she would like to adopt me. She asked
if I had ever been naughty with any girls. ....I had often thought about
being "naughty" with girls but I never seemed to arrange to be
in the right place at the right time....She told me to look in the glove
compartment for a surprise. Inside I found a sheath knife and a
flashlight. There was also a packet of pictures and she asked me if I
wanted her to show them to me. ...The nudity and the absurdity of the
contortions amused me and I began to laugh.... She forgave me,
then delivered a lecture on how some women can give you a terrible
disease. She asked me if I knew what the symptoms of these diseases
were. I confessed my ignorance and she grew alarmed. "Why you could
have one of those diseases right this minute and not even know
it!!" And with a very clinical attitude she unbuttoned my pants. A
few years later in boot camp, when we got our first lecture on venereal
disease, I was disappointed. It lacked the same personal touch
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