Goddamn Barber Perfect and his Low German Plosives! His "b"s are popping "p"s and Rabbi Aboab keeps coming out "aboap." His ancient Alveola's keep slipping from "d" to "t" so that my point about the power of the "guild" in Mokum Aleph gets lost in his rejoinder about their "guilt." His fucking 'Frikatives' have my Mirror Neurons biting my own lips! You give the guy 850 years to practice 64 phonemes and he still sounds like Colonel Klink on Qualudes! Slag says we shouldn't take him out in Northport, America without Marvin Minsky to calm the locals. 'Splain to them about how Sound and Meaning should move on different but parallel channels in a neural net - with little connections branching in Descartesian Geometries. Pub Talk. Filler shit between Pussy and Punching. But suddenly Barber is off on this Tangent about how he ripped off a Nazi Belt Buckle from Hemingway in France.
A Phylactery is also an inscribed scroll. Angels carry them in Artist's renditions. And Saints. Sculptors love them because they get to carve trippy mind-bending sigils and codes on them. Your average dude in Northport, America is not aware that Angels have neither genitals nor vocal chords which operate at Monkey-Hertz levels. We can't hear Angels - they're Ogdoadic - a 1000 Octaves above Monkey Middle C. Unless you're a Saint or a Virgin who is going to become a Saint. Such as them got Ears - the kinds of ears the gospels tell us we will need if we are really going to hear what's being said. So Angels carry message modules - Phylacteries. A Scroll just long enough to get god's message written in the Zeit-Script of your times. You have to remember that every message comes with Meta-Messages - Metatags - things like attitude, mood, and tone. Was she screaming when she said "fuck you"? Or smiling and licking her lips? Nothing means only what was inscribed. The stylus you use to carve the wedge-shaped lines limits your abilities to mark vowels, which constrains the ability to demonstrate tonal-moods. Every Message-System comes embedded in Forms which mold, guide, rule, and constrict. Phylacteries are High Entropy Vehicles for successful transfer. Better than Smoke Signals - but not much.
The Nazis take a bad rap for wearing Wehrmacht Buckles which have been inscribed "Gott Mit Uns" in a Circular Phylactery which surrounds the National Socialist edition of the Kreigsadler which here grips a Swastika in its Prussian talons. God With Us was the motto of Prussian Royalty for centuries. Prussian soldiers have been going into battle wearing phylacteries which claim that god is on their side for 200 years - at least. Christ, it was used as a Battle Cry during the 30 Years War during the 17th Century - Catholics smashing Protestant skulls and knowing god wants them to do just that. Protestants raping any wench in a village with an Altar. The Romans went into battle in the dark Teutonic Forests of Bavaria screaming "Nobiscum Deus!" And when Kenny La Roche takes to the field for an Oh-Dark-30 Mission we Spit for Bruno. Semantically they are Isomorphs - things which cover the same territory - it's a claim that You and the Universe have the same Goals. Never mind, for a moment, that Richard Dawkins, and E. O. Wilson, and Harris, Dennett, and Hitchens all claim that the Universe has no Intentions at all. Let that slide ... put it out of your mind ... don't you worry your pretty little head. Nazism never could have seized Germany and Europa if it had not been a Fully Formed Faith with god on its side. Monkeys follow Myths. God may be on the side of the Big Battalions but every soldier knows in his heart that Jesus and Buddha, Shiva and Baal, are laying odds on him. "God says he can get me out of this," says the mad Mick to Mel, "but he's pretty sure you're fucked."
You can just hear La vie en Rose and smell the Pigalle after a November rain. Lucky had known Jayne Hill for 2 years before they met again in Barcelona. Lucky had loved her for both those years. Lucky had loved her since he first saw her in the dark cellar of JoJo's in La Rochelle in March of 1963. JoJo was the town Pimp and Black Market Capo. He operated from his cellar bar which was near the Hotel Angleterre, the old stomping grounds of the U-Boat Krews from La Pallice. Barber had been doin' bidnez with JoJo since the Fall of France in May of 1940. She was sitting at the table with JoJo, Kenny La Roche, Barber Perfect, and Pooler Jones. Lucky was 19 on that day - 17 March 1963 - and before the night was over Jayne Hill had seemingly promised him that she would see him again and that later they would make love but not yet, not until he was ready. Which pisses off 19 year olds who are always ready. Every Art Historian will tell you that this is a picture of the French model Fernande who posed like this for many series of photocards in the early part of the bloody 20th century. The Photographer was the famous "inventer" of the French Postcard: Jean Agelou. But it's not. It's a picture of Jayne Hill taken in front of me in Barcelona by Barber Perfect in 1965 on 17 March 1965 my 21st.
Barber gave Hemingway's buckle to Lucky - as a gift on Lucky's 21st Birthday. He gave it to him in Barcelona in Jayne Hill's mansion at the foot of Montjuic. It was 1965 and the world was exploding. The three of them were making a Bogey Series of early 20th Century Jean Agelou "postcards." Fernande was about to be rediscovered in the loft of a Paris warehouse about to be gentrified, neatly packed away in uncut signatures, the long lost and long mythologized missing series of French Postcards which had long been rumored to have crossed the line. Fernande - the first Sex-Goddess of the Mass-Market Photography industry. Back in the day - when the Printing Press was about to give way to the Photo Press. When words were giving way to the onslaught of Images. Fernande - the lithe, young, smiling waif with open innocence and ripe, swelling tits. Over time her "Postcards" went from Naughty to Naughtier. But they never crossed the line in 1910 ... but then there were the rumors of the Forbidden Series. The Photocards made for Gentlemen only with the means to purchase rare items of Art. Expensive pictures of the young Fernande and some mysterious young Prince of Alchemy doing Conjunctio on a 4 Poster Catalunian Bed the size of a banquet table. In the act. All of it photographed and printed in the rich sepia tones of 1910 phylacteries. But I must correct one fact: Barber Perfect did not actually steal the Gott Mit Uns buckle from Hemingway in France - he took one that Hemingway had and then Barber left another one in its place.
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