The Mid-eastern Roots of Western Democracy
"Religions are no longer identified with charity, but with spreading discord…under the name of zeal for the Lord."---Spinoza, Theologico-political Treatise
"Religions are no longer identified with charity, but with spreading discord…under the name of zeal for the Lord."---Spinoza, Theologico-political Treatise
Feeling and ideas are renewed, the heart expands, the human spirit develops only through the reciprocal action of human beings on one another.---Alexis de Tocqueville
Amy and I met in front of the hotel where we were both living at the time. We were young then. She was a music student and I had a neat little business selling cocaine. She looked so cute in her tight black pants while gazing at my Bugatti.
“Great car, huh?” she remarked when I nonchalantly moved to stand next to her.
“Would you like to have a ride?”
“This is your car?”
“Now?” I said.
I had a large white one bedroom that overlooked the cobblestoned square, where the intoxicating perfume from a row of old lindens drifted up on to my terrace. She had a faded closet-sized studio in the back, with a paint-chipped slanted ceiling. It had in it the smallest single bed and a piano. Books and stacks of music were piled in unruly columns on the chocolate-colored floor, and an image of Robert Redford cut from a magazine was taped to the wall.
We must have come off as idiots in our attempt to push our lust aside with ridiculous small talk about things neither one of us could have cared less about. Who were we trying to kid? She ended up being the bold one as she unzipped her fly and sauntered over to the window to pull down the shade.
Consummately enamored with Paris, she breathed her French as if she was trudging up a hill. She styled herself a gamine and let her mousy brown hair fall loose and long past her round shoulders.
She was a wild little monkey. Instead of retreating to the bathroom to take care of herself like other women I knew, she would insert her diaphragm while lying on the bed. On her back with the sheets kicked to the floor, she’d smile and wink at me while I waited...
WARNING THIS IS A FAKE STORY
After 5 years of fighting, Africa surrendered a small army to Port USOA's faithful soldiers. They celebrated with some free food from Hot Italian, the country's food dealer. "WE WON BABY THANKS TO THE LOVE OF OUR COUNTRY FULL OF PEACE AND JUSTICE OF OUR FAITH WE ARE THE BEST WAR WINNERS WE BEAT EVERY ONE IN THE WORLD BABY OH MY GOD POP THE PEACE PIÑATA LETS BE FULL OF JJJJJOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYY!!!"
THE END
By Samuel Ortiz. Edited by Ivanna Ortiz
First Stanza 1-2-3-4-5-6Second Stanza 6-1-5-2-4-3Third Stanza 3-6-4-1-2-5Fourth Stanza 5-3-2-6-1-4Fifth Stanza 4-5-1-3-6-2Sixth Stanza 2-4-6-5-3-1
First line of Envoi 2-5Second line of Envoi 4-3Third line of Envoi 6-1
WARNING THIS IS A FAKE STORY
"Come on, work, work, work!! We don't want to lose the war, do we?" said Turbo 1 "NO!" everyone said. "WELL THEN WORK! COME ON! IN ONLY TEN MINETES AND THE WAR STARTS. GO OUT THERE AND FIGHT! FIERO! YOU GO AND HIDE IN YOUR STATION WITH DASANI (Dasani is a drink Turbo 1 and Fiero created. It bring the life back to the dead people.) PUT AWAY EVERY BUILDING (every building was designed and built so that when disaster strikes it would be easy to pile the buildings up and put them away.) AND HIDE THEM SO NOTHING GETS DAMAGED! HURRY UP! ILL START THE COUNTDOWN! 60 SECONDS LEFT FOR THE WAR TO BEGIN 59-58-57-56-55-54-53-52-51-50-49-48-47-46-45-44-43-42-41-40-39-38-37-36-35-34-33-32-31-30 SECONDS LEFT 29-28-27-26-25-24-23-22-21-20-19-18-17-16-15-14-13-12-11- 10 SECONDS EVERYONE 9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 W-W-W-W-A-A-A-A-R-R-R-R-R." The war was a bloody mess. everyone was crashing, dying, being thrown into the ocean, and soon there wasn't anyone left. Will Port USOA win?
---By Samuel Ortiz. Edited by Ivanna Ortiz