“ In the desert I said,’Is it good, friend?’
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
‘It is bitter — bitter,’ he answered;
‘But I like it
Because it is bitter
And because it is my heart.’
In the desert
I said,’Is it good, friend?’
No we’re not alike in many ways. Well, I hate you. And it seems like you don’t hate yourself so I think that’s one important thing to consider.
“ I learned a lot in college, the very least of it in the classrooms. I learned how to kiss a girl and put on a rubber at the same time (a necessary but often overlooked skill), how to chug a sixteen-ounce can of beer without throwing up, how to make extra cash in my spare time (writing term papers for kids with more money than I, which was most of them), how not to be a Republican even though I had sprung from a long line of them, how to go into the streets with a sign held up over my head, chanting ‘One Two Three Four We won’t fight your fucking war’ and ‘Hey Hey LBJ How many kids did you kill today’. I learned that you should try to get downwind of teargas and breathe slowly through a handkerchief or a bandanna if you couldn’t do that. I learned that when the nightsticks come out, you want to fall on your side, draw your knees up to your chest, and cover the back of your head with your hands. In Chicago, in 1968, I learned that cops can beat the shit out of you no matter how well you cover up.