Is it true that Dom just accepted a job as a recruitment-sergeant for the
Bread and Butter Army?
Can it be that he guessed his role correctly and followed the French-
Italian route and set out with his own pram from North England towards the
Alp to camp there?
Because of his previous bitter experience as a hidden CIA operator, he
prefaced the documents attesting his new move with a kind of succinct “Hi,
all, banana banana banana banana ba-na-na”.
While with the CIA, no more a civil servant than a tour operator, going up
and down hills, he did not stop where he had to stop and reached a training
camp in Pakistan, where very persuasively he told his closer relative, a
bamboo shoot , that he was tired of fighting and that he envied cubo-
dancer. He told him that only a month before the CIA had eliminated his hut
in order to prevent female of various origins cueing in front of it all day
long, with any sort of weather, holding burning candles as in front of a
naked St Sebastian the Harrowed.
Dom resisted the offence and endured the weather. Bought himself a blue
pram and lives in it since then. This is his lucid account of the “pram
action” against the CIA in Sat, 7 Apr 2001 21:18:44 +0100, which left all
uncertain about one detail: was he ever treated in a real orgone machine
(cabinet)?
CatsHere is my story: after psychotherapy,
aromatherapy, orgone therapy, aversion
therapy, chemical castration and a sound
whipping from a man dressed as my father
……
His account, supported by photos sent as file attachments to one friend
only, living in the suburbs of Caltanisetta, were all vague and did not
show any clear detail. He also sent to another friend, in Copenhagen, an
envelop containing some of his hair and two eyelashes that had fall on his
desk while he was writing a letter home. In his brief note, he asked his
friend, ( who is a pharmacist)whether he could have the hair and eyelids
tested to check if they had a tendency to fall. The report was sent back
to Dom a few days later containing the result: no, there is no such a
tendency. Very content, the same day, Dom pushed his pram to an ice-cream
van and there he sat and eat at once a couple of cornettos, one in each
hand. These parallel actions, which were the culmination of a post whip
self-promoting campain – caught by a video-camera - left some uncertain
whether he wasn’t taking life too seriously. Dom, who is now perhaps a
little cut off from the world in his mountain retreat, may wish to know
that here those here who think of him and worry about his (far too) long
silence.
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