Blackened Nights
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About this ebook
Elias Sassoon
Elias Sassoon is the author of approximately, roughly, terminally twenty-five works that include short story collections, novels, poetry collections and non-fiction, essay collections. While producing his writing by night, he has earned his daily wage in honest labor that ranges from professions like teacher/bathroom attendant to a door-to-door bible salesman/fish cleaner and everything in between. Elias continues to work hard, grinding out the words and turning them into literary gems, or if you prefer, literary pearls of wisdom. He lives with his wife, two children and a dog-named Brandon in a suburban area in the vicinity of the great Metropolis known as New York City. There he prepares barbecue dinners for neighbors and friends, roams the area for yard sales, watches flies and other moving insect life die in his backward where he also sits on a metal beach chair deciding on the future of the world as we know it.
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Blackened Nights - Elias Sassoon
Blackened Nights
by
Elias Sassoon
Blackened Nights
ISBN: 978-1-312-05641-1
Copyright © 2014 by Elias Sassoon
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or, other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval systems, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of any of the characters to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
First Printing: July 2014
Dedication
To ideas never written or spoken, but just lived
Table of Contents
PREFACE
CHAPTER I - PRESENTING A YOUNG MAN EATING WHILE HE EATS THROUGH LIFE
CHAPTER 2 - LAYING IN THE VOMIT WHILE RAPPED IN A STENCH-FILLED BLANKET
CHAPTER 3 - DIVING INTO BULLETS EMBEDDED IN HUMAN FLESH
CHAPTER 4 - DEALING WITH THE OFFICIALS OF THE BARBARIAN STATE
CHAPTER 5 – JAIL, NUTHOUSES AND VARIOUS OTHER FAMILIAR INSTITUTIONS
CHAPTER 6 – VISUALIZING THE BEAST THROUGH ROSE COLORED GLASSES
CHAPTER 7 – TAKING ACTION TOWARDS REACTION
CHAPTER 8 – CONCLUDING INTO ROCKS AND THINGS
Blackened Nights
Preface
Hazy and cloudy, or maybe shadowy and dark, the blackness of black which is akin to the whiteness of white. Interesting. Do you see it, can you see the basic premises of good and evil, the basic substances, that is? What is the universe composed of except putrid pieces of rotting crud thrown together by the empty ones, the ones who seek only suppression of what could be a beautiful cosmos? I see all these mothers, the walking bones that seek to imprison me in the fortress of their decadent world. I can see them because I am the Savior of Saviors and will unite my spirit with the power of the sword. I can see through the shadows of it all and all their pretensions. I cannot be fooled or bought or paid for; I cannot be quieted. I am too much the walking genius. I am lovely, a sweet piece of humanity in a humanity that is empty of all.
You are already upset by me, already seeking my annihilation, already and I have not even begun. You know what I will do to you, though, you understand. Understand, meat, that is what I want, your meat, and the meat off your bones. I will dine on it, dine and then I will smile because I will have destroyed the enemies of our times. But you do not know about enemies. Why should you know about enemies? Why should you begin to understand? Maybe you will understand the fire. Is that possible. Probable. You laugh at me, you dare to laugh, say I am some jerk, some punk, that I am too young to understand the real world. Well fuck you; fuck you, and all of you. I understand the world more than anybody does and I understand there really isn’t a world. It’s all rubbish, made up by you to destroy heroes like me. But I’m up to the challenge. This brave soul, this feeling human being is up to it. Run you bastards, you mother fucking bastards. You’re about to disappear before the steam rolling pursuit of one John Nat who will obliterate you to your very last drop of blood.
Chapter I - PRESENTING A YOUNG MAN EATING WHILE HE EATS THROUGH LIFE
Nazis, I love these people, all of them, sweet and they understand the true realities of life and not the rest of the bullshit. I like the way they never listened to bullshit. They just took what they wanted and read through it all and it all is crap. Most things are garbage, I know that, but I also know that the only way to deal with garbage is to eliminate it; get a flamethrower and burn it all away, the garbage and the floor beneath the garbage. That’s right man, right as I always am.
Got this pimp bastard talking to me at this minute in the high school, or as I see it, in this mortuary here in the suburbs, which is really in the mind anyway. What is the jerk, the photography teacher freak talking about? Something about taking pictures. Look at this fat fool, the Jew. I hate these Jews; all scumbag, fat-asses and all like they know it all. Jews, they’re the ones that breed the unreal crap all around me. What is it about these retards; they love the material world, that’s it and they push the material world on us individuals and they corrupt us all. Got to bring those Nazis back and let them finish the job. Nazis knew weakness and understood there can only be one solution to it, the sword, that shiny object that can pierce the skin of barbarian crowd and produce oodles of blood.
John, John, are you listening to me, John,
the fat freak at the front of the room is saying to me and I hear it only now. Do you have the assignment, the pictures? They were due today.
I don’t answer the Jew and he writes something down in his Jew book. The others, my classmates look away from me. They’re afraid of me, I think; know my fucking power. What a bunch of twerps they are, cowed assholes who follow like blind mice. A little raping and beating would do them a world of good, and sometimes that’s all individuals need to humanize them, to wake them up, to understand what’s idiot claptrap and what’s not. John, I would like to talk to you after class,
the Jew says to me then. They always want to talk these people and that’s what makes them weak, talking and organizing, democratizing, lovers of the world. Sick, perverse. And, they’re everywhere. I’d love to see them out of the school and out of common ordinary life. Hitler knew what to do. Now there was an individual. They call him a villain, the media barons and the like, they call him evil-incarnate, but if that’s the case, can you please tell me why you can go into a bookstore and find a thousand books on the German Chancellor and everybody talks about him; how many books do you find on Jonas Salk, the Jew doctor who discovered the Polio vaccine. Discovering cures to human diseases, what’s so great about that. Why the hell do we need to preserve our bodies; it’s our love of the body that has gotten us into this mess and we are in a mess, a crisis situation and if men are going to really survive and really live we have to destroy the enemy right away. Now John, John, I am really surprised at you lately, really. You were such a good student and you’re really bright, I know you are, but you haven’t turned in your last three assignments and I am afraid you are now failing this class. You’ll need to pass in order to graduate or else you’ll have to go to summer school.
I look sad, but I don’t confront the Jew. Like Adolph said a long time ago, you can’t win by confronting these Jews; they have a way of
Weaseling out of everything and twisting everything. What you got to do with them is just take a German luger and fire it into their brains and then dump their bodies in the nearest pit. That’s the good deal. Talking is for bullshit artists and not for real individuals. Give somebody a smack in the head and they respect you. Like, take me, this ignorant piece of trash, that’s what you might say right, and then you take this Ph.D. guy and there I am alone in a room with the mother and he’s trying to rule over me because he has education, well I take out a bat and smash his brains out a little and then all his education means crap. I rule. The individual with the bat always rules. Don’t believe it when they say that education is valuable. You know what the fuck education will do for you, it will make you a slave, it makes everyone into a slave and easily manipulated. You can always tell the intellectuals by the way they can be pushed around. You take my buddy Hitler; the intellectuals were no match for him. All he had to do was say boo and they ran for the freaking hills. Makes me laugh. So why would you want to get more educated, so I can learn how to make bombs, nuclear ones too. That’s all they do anyway, the intellectuals, sit around in an office and think of ways to rub out the world, which might not be such a bad thing. I don’t want to rub out the world though, fellows, I just want to smash every cocksucker into the ground and stamp on their dead bodies. Okay, Mr. Swartz, I’ll try harder, Mr. Swartz, I’ll make up the work I haven’t done Mr. Swartz.
I lie to the Jew who teaches Photography and he smiles at me and says that’s good and great and he wasn’t worried and similar garbage. People love you to lie to them. I sometimes think they would rather listen to lies than hear the truth. What am I saying? I know people rather hear lies than the truth. They’re all a bunch of whoring phonies. Nobody wants to hear what it’s really about. Everyone is into the fictional.
This Swartz, dude, I know all about the bastard. A couple of times I followed him after school to his house - made sure I wasn’t scene - and just parked and watched and he’s got these two teenage daughters with these real big Jew asses and a wife with these real big Jew tits, and while I was watching, I couldn’t help but think of how nice it would be to rape Swartz’s women. It might do them all some good. Look how they live, so nice, so clean, so protected. I can just see these Jews, living their life of routine, going back and forth to work, watching TV, following their Jew holidays, protected from the reality of what is inside a person. How many times have I been tempted to fire bomb that house of theirs, and I could do it because I know how to do the bomb thing; that’s easy. The closest I’ve come has been making some prank phone calls to the teach’s little bitches; I call a couple times a week and breath hard and say that I’m going to mutilate their little pussies and they scream and I saw that I will be coming for them. It’s great. It serves them right. That’s the trouble with the Jews, too comfortable, love to sit back and forget their souls, their humanity, and love to live within the lines or within their own thoughts. Thank God there are people like myself to protect the world.
\* * *
After school, nothing to do but drive around in my little tin import and just wander in the mall of America. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I know now that something must be done to liberate the soul of humankind from its bondage at the hands of the barbarians. Look at this mall, a perfect example of the sterility that people like me must combat. Tile floors, perfectly clean, tiles everywhere, clean everywhere, nigger-cleaning people everywhere with mops and pails, everywhere while the young pussies and their older kike mothers prance about with shopping bags in their hands. The mothers smell like old perfumed pussies. They have no feelings, no thoughts; they seek only to find clothes for their lumpy bodies and that’s all women have these fucking lumpy bodies, with boulders attached to their chests and a hairy hole between their legs. So what they’re doing is looking for material to cover themselves up because they’re ashamed of what’s underneath, want to hide it. So they saunter around the mall looking for things to cover themselves up to prevent people like me from really seeing them. There are also kids from the high school and they’re roving in bands like dogs looking for a bone. It’s like they all just hang out and have nowhere to go and nothing to do and this is the only place. Bunch of assholes, they just hang out at the food mall here, eating hamburgers, the girls gossiping about the boys, the boys gossiping about the girls, talking about their plans to get into their pants, it’s all putrid crap, putrid I tell you and it’s almost like they’re all as phony as these American shopping malls. Look at these stores, chain stores, BANANA REPUBLIC, THE GAP, KMART, MACY’S, and they all are just aisles of emptiness that all look the same and the reason they look the same is because there is a conspiracy against us, and we have created the conspiracy. The plot is to drain us of our humanity, to make us stop feeling. They call that de-sensitizing in the Brave New World. The world should be varied, not the same. The shopping mall is there instrument, the instrument of the barbarian horde to kill us, that is, make us into walking zombies, don’t you know. Don’t you see, or, are you that dead inside, are you?
Hey man, where the hell were you? Thought you were going to wait for me?
I rap Dan on the back. He’s sitting there waiting for me, sitting at the edge of those phony shopping mall waterfalls and staring at this fancy hair boutique that does all these phony hair things that make all the bitches who go inside look French debutantes. Dan Rack turns quickly and violently around. He is always weary, always fearful that somebody, one of his enemies will stick a knife in his back and he lives according to that idea. Hey man, sorry, cut my last two classes and I ripped out of school, had to man, didn’t want to go to science. The bitch was throwing one of those test in the double period. Didn’t study. Who cares?
I like Dan shares my vision of things, which is always good. There are so few that do and as I know I am right, everyone else must be wrong. To be right means going down deep, worshiping yourself, loving every thought you have. Ego is good, good is ego. That’s the way it is. But they don’t want you to think that, the barbarian horde and everything they teach and everything they show teaches you to look outwards and condemn yourself. Dan pulls me over into shadows of the mall, in an area where they have these plastic plants growing in pots and he pulls out a gun, which I recognize. It is the one we got from the dealer in New York, bastard Spic charged us good money for it, a nice little .44 caliber thing that can really create pain. We used it when we held up these convenience stores last summer, night raids over a two week span in which we earned about $15,000 and never got caught. It was worth robbing those joints, which are operated in the middle of the night by needy foreigners, mostly Indian and Chinks. Just watching them at the counter while we waved the gun at them was wonderful; we had on ski masks so they couldn’t see our faces but that only made them more terrified. I liked to get their heads down on the counter and put the guy up to their temples and they’d beg me for mercy, told me to take whatever they needed and they cried and I enjoyed every minute of it. Bastard foreigners. I felt good like I was humanizing them, that is, bringing out there humanity and I tell you why, when you are facing