Ch 5 New Dixie

The juxtaposition of two worlds was not a pleasant nor casual affair. The intersecting was more fucking as a means of torture than simple geometry. I believe that the lauded Harold Bloom once noted in "Where Shall Wisdom Be Found?" the best description of existentialism, whether threat or in an evolutionary philosophical sense, was that the war in man between the animal and the social mores and norms of our race were inherently incompatible, causing a rift in the actions, thoughts and instinct in mankind, a schism. This lines up, unfortunately, with Freud and his convoluted genius. It is impossible to leave Freud out of any academic discourse on the evolution of the science of motives, influence and bastardization but we'd all probably like to.

Be it the coke head’s ideas or Marxian or whatever, something divides us fundamentally. I think about it a lot but have formulated no substantive opinion other than money being but one occlusive factor and that education is no good if there is no moral form to fill with the schooling. Education, breeding, family, skin color, intelligence. Everyone I knew, knew that these are the factors that produce a actualized life full of meaning. Yet, as fundamental as these truths were laid out to me, as I moved about learning all facets of academia under the careful eyes of many who cared deeply for me; I was ethically and morally bankrupt, with no shore in sight. With that firm realization very young I knew I couldn’t stay around my family.

IT was always a trial to not be doing something. Stillness was foreign. The good thing about dope was that you were always doing something. Boredom was the worst. To Dean and the entire troupe the lived variously and haphazardly off the pier side of Elise running up and down Chartres, dope was spiritual and they were on top of Mt. Moriah. 

"Mt Moriah, you tepid and forlorn Jewish miscreant is not the analogy you would use."  I talk out loud sometimes.

"Not Zion, thats a colored church down on Ursuline but Mt.Moriah is in the Bible."

Bywater into the Quarter and back out. To many things that bite for me at night in the Quarter, some of the others spent time picking pockets and passing vitamins as Molly. My first trick was supposed to be a roll but before I got to the The Maison, picking my way through the Woldenberg, who do I see but Rachael.

You know the camera trick utilized by cinematographers in the 90’s where the background images grow hazy as the central image enlarges? There was everything and then only her.  I cannot express in clear terms the psychic blow it had on me. IT was as if God was real and prosperity gospel has been Biblically explained and I was now in the middle of Jehoshaphat Phat City. Lottery fucked by the Nobel Peace Prize with Cream Cheese Icing.

Now I had to get her not to want me dead and forgive me for her toe.