“I still believe I am capable of murder. I know at least five or six bus drivers I would have already shot if I were crazy enough to think I could get away with it. I hesitate to say fat pig brutes reading at the seventh grade, but I want to think it,” he says. What else he thinks, says to himself, is not necessary to relay; it is even difficult to say again, quotes have a way of fading, losing their form, memory has a loose grip on its own past deeds and words, let alone the ability to firmly grasp the words and deeds of another.
“To shoot someone or not to shoot someone cannot be the limits of my to be or not to be, what I become by imagining this is not exactly what some might assume I become by thinking this–we’re not talking doing here, yet,” he goes on to add as he has added words words and more words to the words he has already spoken.
“So what if his wife or his children would weep, this imaginary man–or is it man in an imaginary situation? Everybody in this culture wants to be a victim; we envy the victim, we do. We put victims on pedestals. We’re hungry for new victimhood. We make victims out victimizers, giving them excuses for why they victimize unsuspecting victims,” he tries to mean in a way appropriate to what he is imagining.
“Ah! The pseudo-confessions seeking media-absolution. Everything by popular ex-press,” he warns us. What you and I think about him is determined by our intelligence, our sensitivity as readers, mine as a writer, what I say and how, here, for you, who else is this for but you the reader. What is reading? We would have to ask again as we have asked this before, as I have, I know, independent of what my culture asks–and cultures’s do ask as they do demand, and to demand in some cultures is not what we think of it in ours.
“Do I wish there were more to say or less to say–I knew a girl back in college who used to say more is less. I wanted to put more of my foot up her ass than I allowed myself to imagine and ask her if it were true, what she used to say all the fucking time. I never reached a time in my life when I thought more vagina was less–and I say vagina because I know ‘pussy’ sounds too trite, and too many women are offended by the word ‘cunt.’ So, is there more to say?” He asks. “No, all has been said that needs to be said and there is need in the saying,” he says, as there is need in the writing as there is also need in the victimizing, “a certain need in victimhood,” he says he believes, cannot help but think irrespective of what others around him say write, think, he suspects.