In her art club Lyla took her turn to sit at their gallery, had felt well enough to go, Saturday. I was mopping the downstairs and listening to C-SPAN's Washington Journal. Kelly called to hear how she is doing. Being she was not here to talk with him he asked how am I doing.

I am not a telephone person, wished to sink back into routine, get upstairs for a workout and rest and drink three bottles of ale and try to write something. I said the back is looser from the chiropractic though the sciatica is the same. Or maybe firstly I spoke how I strangely missed the Friday night fights, had early known it is Friday the garbage day, and pulled out the garbage bin for the lads, yet got into thinking it was Thursday, never turned on the fights, incredible.

Kelly said something about observing this genetic trait of senility in all of us post our "alzheimer" father's passing and it is showing in LL. Said I said he had only been a physical therapist ten years. I assured him this was a misread, that I said he had been commenting on my carriage ten years. Kelly accepted that, said I had it wrong saying this stuff he advises me to work with is hormone stuff, when it is a steroid. Not that this is a steroid like in body building but that it is this anti-inflamatory steroid.

What? I said hormone? Are you sure? I meant steroid!

No, no, you said hormone.

Ah, shit, I meant steroid.

I disagree I am showing any genetic senility or Alzheimer's. Writing is not always easy. I am unconsciously preoccupied. "Trying to think" except in starting CLXIII I cannot find this phrase of CLXII, guess it got tossed. Wait, here it is, last page, "trying to think and I heard off television this of firsty hitting Bagdad with 800 cruise missles in a 48 hrs."

Kelly likes the NY stuff. Might be the NY excerpt in CLXII looks better to many people than the later thoughts. Too many people try to speed read me.

Kelly said I am not getting out enough and can use the Medicade (or is it Medicare) to go to saunas, or was it heated pools. I said there is nothing like this around here and he said it is so, in Corpus.

Yeah, you're not getting out enough, this is unhealthy, you need to meet other people, he said, not considering I am glad to be drinking 3 bottles of ale to write a day and be sending money to my kid. Less gasolene and the truck needs new tires but medicinal pools in Corpus with the random lascivious beauty is a nice concept. All while I have become spooky about driving the rusty pickup past deranged U.S. police.

Funny stuff, Kelly is the second or third least insane human I know, my daughter being the least insane.

I may make my move, in a decade or so. Most sixty year olds have run their course, just want to slide on in. Here is when the survivors of Texas Gang of past century this time do not much visit. Madness, fear, mainly unwitted of what in the 18OOs went down. Guess I have not seen for a couple of years. My actual oldest friend this incarnation, Jackson Jones who runs the TG site in Lousiana, has this day sent a book, and word he has not got any LL since CLXI. So I got to xerox more, get one to good Jackson. Being LL with Jackson is online I have less need to xerox and send so many, but will get to drinking ale or wine and maybe send to strangers, maybe zinesters in the ULA, just to say hi. Jackson has survived and retired from Standard Oil, now is reading many books of non-fiction. Here he sends me WE WISH TO INFORM YOU THAT TOMORROW WE WILL BE KILLED WITH OUR FAMILIES. Stories From Rwanda by Philip Gourevitch.

I am in some contact with Austin. One likely to periodically call is Stuart Magness, another great mad-musician/songwriter. The other great mad musician/songwriter is more together and successful, Or to say in ongoing saga is with wife Suzie in the Texas Music Hall of Fame, Spencer Perskin - a word will come from him at times. The other person who may call these days is Trooper. Old friend, re LL. He has been here twice the month past, as his ailing father is in Corpus with a later, greedy wife, while Trooper and his straight sister fuss over the inheritance as well. Agitated Trooper said he drove onto my mother's property thinking, now here is a guy who has really suffered. Heh, I think I have not usually had much sympathy.

Trooper too thinks I need to meet women. I tried to explain to him my bad attitude.

No, I don't want to talk to them in the grocery store. Hell, Trooper, I scare people.

Well. This hunter or fisherman hat you're wearing now would scare them. Now, that other hat was better.

That was the Medicine Hat. But it started leaking rain. Cynthia took it back to hang by this painting of me.

Like a scalp.

Heh, sure or I guess. But you're right, I used to get all these women in the grocery store complimenting the hat, the Medicine Hat. But, hell, and they get away because I didn't have any money. Anyway, most women I'm not even attracted to. That's too bad.

I don't know what to say. The good looking ones are usually young and silly.

I understand that.

I can't talk to them. Women I get envolved with tend to be the lively aggressive types.

The United States has been strange for me. It is interesting, if I go to Mexico I see approachable women who are quiet. If there was not this incremental violence south of the river now crossing the river, I could take the SSI and always Medicine Dog and hang out in a border town.

WE WISH TO INFORM YOU THAT TOMORROW WE WILL BE KILLED WITH OUR FAMILIES, the Philip Gourevitch book, is so singular and moving as DOWN BY THE RIVER by Charles Bowden.

I have encountered several contemporary books expressing how general folks, who can be loved, or neighbors, or great personalities or great minds, lose identity to authority and fear in any genocide. Most humans when pressed to be murderers or else murdered snap. People who respect authority can generally be coerced to kill women and kids, and learn to like it. Current polls being taken in the U.S. of A. have it three quarters say torture is acceptable to get information "in order to save lives." Does not count, anybody knows anybody says anything in fire. Fear will rule most people.

Gourevitch covers it all. He writes in a humility, objectivity, his labor for humanity. He has me wonder at my hubris and violence.

I trust I have cause. I might share a laugh. The savage laughs at wee men.

The chiropractor pushes me past sciatic pain. How interesting. My very double chin looks less. Metabolism of the mutant. Said Dr. Godtrey, of subluxation that should press my stomach nerves, I'll fix you so you can digest even more beer.

Kelly Olive makes his comeback. He and Janus spent three decades bringing up their quiet-waters-run-deep kid, Jessica. She seems OK now, a physical therapist/rugby player in the California Bay Area, one of the Berkeley All Blues champions. Kelly and Janus walked in a San Antonio demonstration and he wished one of the other side would jostle him. Said he had the same feeling as when we got into the rally against mandatory ROTC at his New Mexico State University --see letter in LL CXXXXIX - when we stopped, the gang of "cowboys" or young local college louts from disrupting the anti-Vietnam demonstration. The usual funny stuff, the local kids thought the anti-Vietnam War kids to be sissies. Kelly and I and my new compadre Rudy Sanches age 18 who took psychedelics with me and had writing ambition but had wrestled in high school and had all kinds ofiolent stories, scared these cowboy kids off of trying to stop the hippie demonstration. Sure, my adrenalin charged me for about two days and nights.

Kelly had embarrassed this kid in cowboy boots and cowboy hat in front of his girlfriend. Anti-war people were supposed to wear these black arm-bands, and Kelly put his around the neck of his basset, Thor. Thor was loping all around. This tobacco spitting college kid advanced to remove the black ribbon from Thor. Yet here came Kelly, jerked the kid's hand off, in front of the kid's girlfriend. Toward the last the disturbed kid had to do some kind of challenge, with girlfriend in tow. Kelly, ex football captain, gone radical, is worldly, polite. We had already won anyway.

I was using all the acid I could get, and 1968 from the Bay Area I had fled "the holocaust" to join the Lacondonies in the Mexican jungle -- re. THE, TORTILLA HIKE - ate a bunch of peyote in Mexico, D.F., coming and going. Berkeley, U.S. head of the radical snarl, had their little revolt, got beaten back down. Overload intensity that is psychedelics had me seeing it all simply and not necessarily wrongly but speedily. I am cognizant we have or have had a lull. Three decades people I know got older and less radical. Freaked, repressed, worried about their children, who grow and be friends with Blackolive, Super Hippy. Ye hypocrisy unto ye schizoid never began nor ended with any Vietnam War. Do not tell me "once we were hippies." A snarl stomped to a grumble is rousing, the ancient serpent, been cold, hungry too long. Bigger now, must eat big. That any U.S,. government beat any hippies counts naught.

In the later sixties in Berkeley I feared having myself around the violent cops, still do. I did attend two rallies, one the Black Panther affair at the large open Greek Theater in Berkeley, wherein on acid, like some few other hippie sorts, I spied a big tough acting white cop. I stood aways off of him at his station and in sport eyeballed him, till he was cringing, shrinking visibly. Funny how vulnerable these guys can be. It was pure bullying, for I would never risk myself fucking up any cop outside self defense. I did this to another such cop, this time the Martin Luther King march of MLK's assassination by government forces in 1968, that went from Berkeley into adjacent Oakland to the Oakland jail containing political prisoners. There a line of helmeted cops gripped their sticks, hoped to wail on the marchers. I selected the apparent meanest actor and did this to him, from behind the first line of taunting marchers. From slapping his palm with his stick, he went sick. A black woman in front of him dug it: What's the matter with you? I amused myself a bit, then friends pulled me out of there. By then, and I got out of the Bay area, there were sensational cop riots. In this phenomenon, police beat on everyone in reach, tossed bloodied bystanders, fleeing citizens bloody, into their paddy wagons, regardless of dress- or sex or age. What'd I do! bash - I haven't done anything: - smash - stomp. It is pretty funny and I sure don't want to be around it.

Bush sure looks bad. Look at that skin, that weak neck. This guy is a jogger? Now he is a strutter, now the assault of Iraq is on, for months prepared by the military, months the wretched politicos and media have called "possible war," and the like. Bizzaro, to any schizoprenic not raised in the U.S. of A. I was not.

In the Vietnam War, it had taken years for protests to organise. Here already,it is international and huge. No majority of a population outside the U.S. and, perhaps,Israel, go for it. Stupendous, the mind of the U.S. herd. Their jolly leader just could be the most unpopular man on Earth.

Phil Donahue, I was enjoying him, though he would not dare be blunt, and call W. liar and murderer, is taken off unbelievably chicken-shit MSNBC, and two awfully boring blustering rightest jerks are put in there, leaving MSNBC nearly thin as Fox. A U.S. "liberal" (or maybe a hippie) girl gets ground by pissed Israli bulldozer driver in Palestine. Bush and Powel and company had a fake document of Saddam getting nuke material from an African country signed by a president who was no longer president. Fairly remarkable, actual fact got flashed on CNN and shut up. Somebody had called their hand. Spooky, how few will call their hand. What gets me is not skulduggery but a clawing for incognizance. When the hell will anybody ask is this administration all on speed?

Last night I was watching some of the CSPAN callers in. One was marvelous. I cannot know if he was real or just an old hippy. He used this cryptic voice: I have always followed Presdent Bush. Sure, there will be many women and children killed. But this is necessary. We need the oil. We Republicans understand these things.

After all the ruckus on how they cut the journalists out of Desert Storm and the Afghani thing, this administration has their conflicted journalists "embedded" in this one, and in less than a week regret it. Air power attempts less collateral damage but this lets in more guerrila action. First week this is called terrorism or treachery, not fighting fair. Slaughter of Iraqui forces continues.

Next can come volunteers from Arabia or Syria, perhaps.

If the U.S. could win quickly enough, or somewhat, in this land where is repression of women, it will jar the Saudis, whose women are yet worse. More likely there is hell to pay, Turks and Kurds going at it and what not.

ULA Members & Supporters: Jan 2003

Emerson Dameron
1510 Bryn Mawr Ave
Chicago, Il. 60640

Chris Estey
1902 2nd Ave#1127
Seatt1e WA 9810l

Lisa Falour
79 Rue De Strasbourg
93200 Saint-Denis

Michael Jackman/Leah Smith
943 W. Willis
Detroit, Mi 48201

Steve Kostecke
San 30, Jangjeon-dong
Kumjeong-gu, Busan
South Korea 609-735

Jeff Potter
1686 Meridian Rd
Williamston MI 48895

Will Ratblood
P0 26098
Philadelphia PA 19128

Joe Smith
9519 49th Ave
College Park MD 20740

Owen Thomas
PO Box 9651
Columbus OH 43209

Urban Hermitt
1122 E Pike #910
Seattle WA 98122

Joseph Verrilli
POB 1158
Bridgeport CT 06601

Karl Wenclaus
P0 Box 42077
Philadelphia PA 19101

Fred Wright
P0 770332
Lakewood OH 44107

Bill Blackolive
1776 N McCampbell
Aransas Pass TX 78336

Jack Saunders
POB 10501
Panama City, Fl 32404

Tom Hendricks
4000 Hawthorne #5
Dallas TX 75219

George Balgobin
4816 Pine Street B306
Philadelphia PA 19143

Carl Robinson
540 S Water #609
Kent OH 44240

Yul Tolbert
P0 Box 02222
Detroit MI 48202

Chris Zee
P0 Box 2338
Astoria NY 11102

Feb 5, 2003

phone t33 (0) 1 48228505

Dear Bill:

Thank you for the writings. I've seen your writings before and I enjoyed them, but yesterday's read was very pleasant, indeed. Ann Sterzinger is here now and (keep this quieta) says you're boring. Maybe in person, you are! Maybe she doesn't like your writing, but I do. Anyway. plese let me know if you want your writing translated into French. I need the work. Don't worry, my idea of pay is wallet-friendly! I'm far too ill to take on anything but small, simple, short-term stuff. I really think I could do your writings justice - first time I've felt that since I moved here in '94! Literary translations into French are soooo dificult! I'd like to see a bit more of your work, so let me know how one subscribes.


Lisa B. Falour

Hey Bill,

Finally a moment to type a few words. Am only half way through latest LL and about a third of the way through Aimee's zine, my life having become prioritized as such. In current regiment, my evenlngs are taken with doing laundry and making dinner for Akiko (who works later hours than I), while watching CNN International to get latest rhetoric on gulf war crisis, and usually interspersing some curls with heavy dumbbell or hand stand push-ups or three chair push-ups into my routine to keep up muscle tone as I no longer find time to go to gym. Monday nights I play basketball with a group of young Japanese guys, and on Saturday or Sunday I play with a gaijin (foreigner) group, who play the banging style ball rd trained myself out of after a couple years playing with the Japanese guys who frown upon fouling. So, physically I am more or less sated. I enjoy my job, am energized by the youthful energy of the girls I teach, and they pay me well. Being as Akiko is also working, we are saving money preparing to maybe have a kid in a year or two, and looking to maybe buy a small house. Ideally we would like to have a place in U.S. and Japan. Mornings I get up at 5:30, go to school early and work on my master's prograin until classes start. I've completed all testing, did well in the Japanese language aspect, now must write 20,000 word thesis on Japanese topic, something to do with media (and lies).

So, it's a fullish life, but I do no "non-academic" reading, nor do I write. I don't want to read LL or Aimee's zine on the fly so I wait for untethered moments, an idle while to waste, a brief throwback to my former twenties, part-time working, no money coffeeshop hanging former lifestyle. I had thought to live the unstructured life at one point, to be a writer. Oh, well when I do sit with LL, it is greatest escapism, leaves more lasting emotional residue than will watching a movie. Yes, I do enjoy your historical recollections. Am recently enjoying hearing of your NY days. Had never heard of the fight with the drunk black guy the amiable friend suggesting you just go for a beer instead, all agreeing in the end it was not racial. I do want to read more of Berkeley in the '60s. I think maybe I have never quite found just what is the vibe of my generation, keep wanting to hearken back to the hippy days of lore. Aimee does have an original voice, is a product of our current times. Maybe she holds the key for locking into the present. This article was in my paper today: homeless guy logs onto internet at library finds an audience. I include it here. Seems there are channels through which word of a site gets round, self-perpetuates. This homeless guy's site gets 15,000 hits a day.

Have received a couple letters with pictures from Madrea. I sent her some of my own. I like that she is exploring various avenues of expression: art, writing, photography... She is very gracious, confident, avoids self-pity; seems free of hang-ups. Bonnie is also completely won over, really enjoys being an aunt. Yeah, for Madrea. People don't speak much about impending attack on Iraq. Prime Minister Koizumi, for whom I had held out hope would shatter image of bureaucrat, party-line politics (with his crazy hair and educated background) turns out to not have much voice, will not ever directly attack Bush or his policies, though word on the street is that U.S. attack is folly, unjustifiable. Miura sensei, older teacher here who I like, often tells me at lunch when I enter his back room to use his microwave, "Bush ikan!" Which translates to something like, "There's nothing to be done about this Bush." He does not bother to say Bush-daitoryo, (President Bush) or Bush-san (Mr. Bush). Just calls him Bush. I might probe him about the dropping of the bomb someday.

How does Lyla fare? Her tenacity in the face of so much discomfort is remarkable. Please tell her that she is my inspiration in this life.

I go to California for ten days from this Thursday, will see Jess, Joe, friends in Bay Area, Bonnie in LA If I can get master's degree and find a position at a university for my next job I can potentially take three or four month vacation, maybe go out to Big Bend, take bicycle tour across Hokkaido, maybe do some writing. I think my life would feel fuller then, though I have no complaints now and am lucky to have a fine wife in Akiko. Probably I will finish LL and Aimee's zine on long flight to LA Thanks for keeping your way of life alive for me Bill.


P.S. It appears the attack on Iraq is imminent, perhaps tomorrow, the day I fly to L.A. strange times.


Didn't manage to mail this while in Japan. In L.A. now. Did read more of Ami's zine. She really does have talent, unique voice.

In Book One, Chapter 4O, of Tolstoy's RESURRECTION, he begins: -

And none of those present, from the inspector down to Maslova, seemed conscious of the fact that this Jesus, whose name the priest repeated such a great number of times, and whom he praised with all these wheezings, had forbidden the very things that were being done there, that He had forbidden not only this meaningless repetition and the blasphemous incantation over the bread and wine, but he had also, in the clearest words, forbidden men to call other men their master, and to pray in temples. Had ordered that everyone should pray in solitude, had forbidden the erection of temples, saying that He had come to distroy them, and that one should worship, not in a temple, but in spirit and in truth; and, above all, that He had forbidden not only to judge, to imprison, to torment, to execute men, as was being done here, but had prohibited any kind of violence, saying that He had come to bring freedom to the captives.

A few chapters past there March 27 I am digging this one better than maybe even WAR AND PEACE, better than ANNA KARENINA, though it is called the lesser accomplishment of his three masterpieces by some dusty minds.

Tostoy thestudent Christian keeps talking the civilization since Jesus is twisted, keeps a twisting.

In the wind. I watch the callers on C-SPAN, more and more pointing out W. is no Christian.

Tony Blair and others are blaming the generation of dead and dying Iraqi kids on Saddam. Funny, how people on TV sit dumbly when this is stated.

"The Iraqi people are not kissing us for liberating them till Saddam is dead, they still fear Saddam, that's what it is." U.S. jerks claw to believe the Iraqis can be in denial about the sanctions as are themselves. Whew. Yet, here is Tolstoy speaking of it in the late 19th century. Perhaps, it is peaking in the early 21st? Without populations favoring the war outside the supposed U.S.'s, or, possibly, Israel's, could Israelis be insensible to their survival, conservatives tell how many allies are signed up. Stupendous. What they call Democracy. I mean, fine, if there is whatever conspiracies, but what are these mechanics, or these psychologies, the ants think as they are told to think, and in all manner of oxymoron? Morons, bovine, ah. It beats the fuck out of me. I get to being like Kelly, none of these boot lickers who did not think the radicals would win the American Revolution had better ever jostle me.

Meantime Pakistan's and all Muslim dictatorships freaking out, jumping to worry what to do to thwart conquest of Iraq.

This is March 29.

In our ongoing dialogue Lisa had smiled maybe I am one of the 11 wise souls and I had asked what is the 11 wise souls. I had shown her a Jeff Potter letter and as he had told me he was watching ONE EYED JACKS she asks about that, and so on, while I unlike herself do not see many movies. Forty years so far ONE EYED JACKS is my favorite movie.

This is a week later in killing the Iraquis, the U.S. plain liars making ado of Bagdad's street applauding Bush, smashing statues of Saddam. Then stealing even bathtubs. Very funny to the anarchist, Rummy gets to waving hands this is but the expression of a freed people. Funny how he just cannot handle any criticism at all. Even old women who are fairly sound in leg go get stuff. Oh well, says U.S. TV, they have been oppressed, have to blow off steam. Really it is because collateral damage got political and kept down this time, horrible even so, hospitals whelmed which had not supplies anyway with the sanctions. U.S. media babbles on, denial murderous sanctions happened and Saddam had his billions.

Other interesting stuff, powerful Christiane Amanpour is the sole journalist I have noticed confront the U.S. on their dismissing a U.S. tank blasting the building which contained journalists of different nations. The U.S. retort is there was a sniper in the building, who could have killed "one or two marines." The traumatised journalists say no, nobody using firearms could have been unseen.

I am not much watching MSNBC because they went to boot-licking. I watch CNN and C-SPAN. C-SPAN has been bringing in stations from other nations. Here in Aransas Pass I can get three CNN stations, and the best in all this is their station about world business, which has a couple of beautiful women who visibly dislike carnage and politics of carnage, and on this station one sees more of actual carnage, dismembered kids and so on. What I am seeing on the regular U.S. station for CNN is like three esteemed women who have gone scared and are not bootlicking hardly either. The best there is the older gal, Barbara Star.


Hey, I got your letter today. Thanks for the "$20. We've gotten the gun too. I think it arrived around the 17th.

Anyways, in my dream, a vehicle pulled up and it Was Lyla, Bonnie, Kelly & Mike. They had come by earlier but I wasn't home. They came to tell me that you had died, you had fallen down the stairs and busted your head open. Then we were all in Texas, & I went upstairs to your room & Medicine was on the bed & he was real sad so I petted him then was downstairs, helping fix the table or something, and you were there talking to me, and it was like you didn't realise you were dead. No one else could see or hear you. It was pretty depressing & the 2nd dream in less than a week that I had with people dying. The other was like a train wreck into water with people I knew or a few turned out to be my friends. I looked up death in dreams and one said if you talked to the person who died in the dream it was good luck or something. Who knows. Last night I had a dream ot evil spirits haunting a house & the only way to make them go away even temporarily was to sneak up on them with shaving cream, what could that mean? Hope all is well there & Medicine sticking around better.

Love, Madrea

Northers of Spring blew in my allergen pollens and under terrific assault and taktng everything on hand to function during sneezing, which can congest the lungs, one day I was surprisingly drunk. Lyla would be less dismayed were I in debilitating asthma attack than were I drunk. She had read Madrea's letter and I was drunk. Now she has this story of calling me from the bottom of these short stairs and I would not rouse.

March 31, 2003

Dear Bill. I frequently answer mail the same day. This bugs many people. Hope it doesn't bug you. I've been a letter-writer all my life, and have been told that my response by return mail, and my sometimes very long letters, can be very off-putting. I'm a lonely person, and really like to write. I also often make only one long paragraph. Your friend Potter mentions Gurdjieff -- Kris likes him a lot. I think the French writer Daumier died from hanging around with G., but I often get my facts wrong. Potter mentions respect for parents. I was quiet and respectful, but shouldn't have been. My parents were cruel, abusive, unfair, critical, etc. I let them fuck me over, and still find them so hurtful, I am glad I left when I was 8. My brother says I did well. On the other hand, my second husband was very rude to his parents -- I found that pretty shocking, although they were horrible people, and his being that way with them was a fairly sane approach. I hope you got my handwritten attempt to translate a bit of LL. I try to switch from writing longhand to typing from day to day, and now can only write maybe two days a week. Carpal tunnel syndrome. What is "One-Eyed Jacks" about? I remember that name from "Twin Peaks," and also from the song, "Shake, Rattle and Roll." My full name is Usa Baumgardner Bachner Herskovits Falour. I use "Lisa B. Falour" because it is good numerologically for a writer. I have been married three times. Here in France, women keep their maiden names. Here, my name would be Usa Baumgardner epouse Falour. But people call me "Madame Falour," same as they might do in the U.S. Many women here do keep their maiden names, though I think that is a fairly recent trend. Well, Kris has been a difficult husband in the past. but he's gotten easier to deal with in the past year. We went to a marriage counselor for six months last year, and that helped, plus he has been sober for a year. He's one of the strangest men I have known, and I have known (carnally speaking) more than 3,000 men, so I would know! He tends to keep me very isolated from people and things. I would like to own a TV set, and he says no, no This in this house. Many people don't like him, most consider him very strange, but he never bores me, and that counts for a lot in my book. We had to learn each other's languages to be able to communicate. He's ten years my junior, also. I agree with you, I do wish to heal, and I also agree with you about the exercise thing. I am a June 9 (Judy Garland was a June 10) and am not an easy person. I also do have some serious health problems, and people and doctors have thought I am a hypahondriac, or hysterical, or whatever. I was sure I was manic-depressive, and was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder about 13 years ago but don't like the pills I was given). I was sure I had sleep apnea, and after five years of asking for help, finally got it diagnosed and treated. (It was very severe and I sleep attached to a machine now.) I was diagnosed as having Lupus when I was five, and was given Cortisone pills three times daily for years and years. I am now looking into seeing if I have Seeliac's Disease (not sure of spelling). which is an intolerance for gluten in wheat. My brother is severely ALLERGIC to wheat. I was abnormally small, got puberty late, lost my baby teeth well into my 2Os, and if I am given a sandwich to eat for lunch, it just doesn't work right in my stomach, and I have to go to bed or the toilet all day. I am half Pennsylvania Dutch, and my father, who was going to be a doctor, told me clean living is the best way for us, and I think he was right. If I go to bed early, get up early, get lots of exercise, eat very plain foods. have sex a lot, get plenty of fresh air, I am quite welI( I shit well, feel calm and happy, have few problems. I have a self destructive tendency, however. Also, being a child of two very nasty alcoholics, I have a hard time letting anyone take care of me, and tend to turn my anger inward (with alcohol -- women often do this -- men are more likely to be physically violent, women tend to turn the anger inward more). Here in France, they think white sugar is good for you! I do like to smoke a bit of hash. Pot is too costly here, but hashish, which comes from Morocco, is pretty much everywhere here in France, and is not costly. They smoke it with tobacco, however, which I cannot tolerate. (Have had pneumonia more times than I can easily recall.) It is fairly hard to know how "Europe" is. It may seem to be "looser," more sophisticated, as you put it, but I don't find it is. I am not a big expert, though. I've only been to England, Scotland, the Netherlands, Belgium, France, and Italy, and have only quickly passed through Ireland, Austria and Switzerland. I find the Dutch pretty open, but that might be because so many of them speak English. I find the French to be fairly conservative. About sex, they may seem a bit more open -- people have affairs, no one thinks that is too weird -- they don't talk about it, though. Many French people won't see a shrink -- they think people will think they are crazy! They also don't like to get their hair wet, and think iced drinks cause chest colds. Many French people find me very, very strange, whereas in Ohio or New York I think people find me pretty normal. You might think the French are into the arts, but 50% of them have never been to any kind of theatre! (Kris is a good example. He's never seen a play, been to the Opera, etc.) So, it depends. Okay, as for showing any writing here. I have sold between 30 and 40 books (I've lost track). This doesn't mean I am an expert, but I have my own way of approaching it. I have never sold a finished manuscript. Whatever you write is not likely to suit the editor or the publisher. I sell based on sample chapters and outlines. The last book I sold turned out very badly, and there are two versions of it, one completely unauthorized, which I haven't been paid for. The most I have ever been paid for a book is $5,000, and that was just once. Usually, it has been $2,000. No royalties ever came, but a few times, I got some more money on foreign editions. I was part of a writing team with my second husband, I probably told you. We wrote under more pseudonyms than I can easily recall. Our best employer was Paul Raymond. the richest man not an aristocrat in England (pornographer and real estate mogul). He does "men's magazines," and paid us cash with no taxes taken out. It was depressing work, but paid the bills. We did sell fiction (short stories), but when we finally got published by Hustler (they pay very well, too), Harlan Ellison threatened to sue us and Hustler for ripping him off. We pointed out that we had ripped off Hemingway, and so had he, and that shut him up. but Hustler never hired us again. I think I am one of the most-published people I know, and I have made money at it, but no way have I been able to make a LIVING at it. Everyone I know who is a publisher has gone broke or says there is no money in it. I think they are usually telling the truth, too. I only know one publisher in France, and he is very famous, but I think he may have died. You cannot get on appointment with anyone here. This is not a capitalistic society (it is more Communist or Socialist than capitalist) and money does not motivate most people here, I have found. Everything is very formal. You have to write in longhand, not even type! And most connections are through personal contact and introduction. I must repeat, I have never known any publisher anywhere to want a finished manuscript. They want a certain length, a certain point of view, and want you to write it for them and stick to a deadline. The last book I sold, which I am having a big problem with, they had a TITLE. They hired a writer to write something to go with that title, but didn't like what she wrote. So they asked ME to write something for that title, which I hated: I WAS FOR SALE. But I did it anyway, much to my regret. Denise is Kris's mother. His father is named Rene. His parents are not my cup of tea. My parents are nasty drunks, and are very, very mean people, but they seem great compared to Kris's parents, who are stupid and narrow-minded. Like many French, they are very racist, very xenophobic. Rene fought in the Algerian war, but other than that, has never traveled, and Denise has never been outside of France, nor done anything without her husband. They waited five years to have a kid, then had Kris, and proceeded to smother him. I've managed to be civil with my parents -and Kris's, but it is hard to be patient with Denise and Rene. I can tell them things 50 times and they don't get it. Clueless! Kris never bothers to really talk to them or to tell them anything about himself. He's smart. They are both from the country, were civil servants in Paris all their working lives, and have 8th-grade educations, which is fairly typical here. They do not like Krls. They are not happy people. When I told Denise I have cirrhosis, she said, "Don't exaggerate!" To me, when a doctor tells me I have cirrhosis, when I see the blood test results, that is a fact. She asked me why my stomach is so big, why I am obese -- I said, "I am alcoholic, I have cirrhosis," then the next day she said something like that I shouldn't say things to her which keep her up all night. I give up! Oh. I try to use scrap paper. Kris sometimes prints me things out from the Internet to read. Recently, he printed me out a draft of the Patriot Act in the U.S.A., so that's what my letter was printed on. Kris says he finally remembered to print out TEXAS GANG for me but the Web site said it's "under construction" and not yet available. Maybe you think it is online with OUT YOUR BACKYARD. but it is not, not yet. It is said that there are always 11 wise souls on this earth at any given time. I believe Harry Smith, filmmaker/ethnomusicologist/alchemist was one. (He died in 1991.) Maybe I am another. I can speak with some people directly into their brains, can read minds, predict things, force the hand of chance, etc. I've seen ghosts, UFOs. etc. I can "hear" people thinking, so being out and about can be very stressful for me. People who know me personally get used to this. I can do silly parlor tricks, like make the flame of a candle sputter. I can cast spells, hex people --I try not to do stuff like that. You have to be very pure, very wise and very balanced to get mixed up with the various forces and powers, and it can backfire very nastily. I have to be careful what I wish for, because I often get it, then don't want it, and then it's too late! I know very little about Texas, just have known people there long distance. It has an interesting history, I find. Since I've told people about the cirrhosis, many have not responded at all. I don't care, I've had more fair weather friends than I care to recall. The world is a pretty fucked up place. I have many regrets, and think there are way too many people on this overburdened planet. Myself included! One thing I do feel okay about is that I've done a lot of healing. and helping, and have given a lot of stuff away. Yeah, when I was in Bruges, Belgium about six months ago, I had a kind of vision about time and the infinite universe. If I am right, there is no need to worry about death, or time, or even separation from loved ones, or pain and suffering. Okay, gonna print this up. Oh, I mentioned wanting to share your second-to-last letter with my friend John in California. I used to just go ahead and do things, now I try to think first, and ask. Your description of your perceptions was very interesting. I had a schizophrenic fiance, and a lot of the "crazy" things he told me made sense, and I spent a lot of time with him in a mental hospital, and made many friends there. I have also been in mental hospitals, myself. I seem to be able to get through to some very troubled people, such as people who are psychotic, or autistic. I am not sure why. I spent a lot of time talking to some people in a mental hospital in Dijon, France, and the doctors were amazed I could engage them in conversation at all. Perhaps it is a kind of gift. I also was a prostitute and a dominatrix for years, and did really well with that. I usually found it to be a positive, even rather healthy. experience. (I liked working in a bordello as a straight hooker, for example. It got rid of lots of inhibitions and fears, and the more safe, pleasant sex I have, the better I feel.) Love, Lisa

Underground Literary Alliance


With the war in Iraq looking more like a foreign policy disaster, and financial sinkhole, by the day for the United States; with a pro-war, mass media controlled by a handful of conglomerates responsible for pushing the American public in favor of this mess; the role of independent media gains in importance.
What kind of job has National Public Radio done on the war, or on other issues, in presenting independent voices?

In the arena the U.L.A. is most concerned with, literature, NPR earns a failing, grade.

NPr exists to provide an alternative to conglomerate-dominated writers and products, but isn't providing it. They present instead an endless stream of authors already well-hyped and financed by gigantic corporations. They can't claim independent writers aren't out there. The U.L.A. consists of a couple dozen of them, any one of whom would make an interesting guest. What, then, is the hold-up? Why the exclusion? Why the failure of NPR to make the smallest attempt to fulfill its mission and bring alternative or even contrary voices to their public forum?

Would book company (Harcourt) funding of NPR conceivably be a factor in this?

We challenge National Public Radio to bring balance to their airwaves, by interviewing independent writers, authentically alternative voices, such as those to be found in the Underground Literary Alliance.

U.L.A. c/o
King Wenclas

Outreach Director
P.O. Box 42077
Philadelphia PA 19101
literaryrevolution. com

to members and interested observers

Name or pseudonym:

1.) Rate the importance of literature in your life on a scale of 1 to 10:

2.) Name your favorite all-time novel.

3.) Who is the most overrated writer in America?

4.) What is the most overrated publication?

5.) The status of literature in American society today is
A.) central.
B.) important.
C.) marginal.
D.) non-existent.

6.) What's the ULA's biggest strength?

7.) Our greatest weakness?

8.) Our major accomplishnent?

9.) What would you like to see the ULA do more of?

10.) Less of?

11.) Name your favorite ULA personality or writer.

12.) Name your least favorite.

13.) Rate the progress of the ULA to date on a scale of 1 to 10.

14.) Fill in the blank: "I____________ the ULA!"

15.) Who would you like to see on the ULA team?

16.) Other criticisms or recommendations:

Mail to:
King Wenclas/Survey
ULA Outreach Project
P.O. Box 42077
Philadelphia PA l9l01
(Can copy and distribute.)

Underground Literary Alliance