Your soul was lifted by the wings today
Hearing the master of the violin:
You praised him, praised the great Sabastian too
Who made that fine Chaconne; but did you think
Of old Antonio Stradivari? -him
Who a good century and a half ago
Put his true work in that brown instrument
And by the nice adjustment of its frame
Gave it responsive life, continuous
With the master's finger-tips and perfected
Like them by delicate rectitude of use.
That plain white-aproned man, who stood at work
Patient and accurate full fourscore years,
Cherished his sight and touch by temperance,
And since keen sense is love of perfectness
Made perfect violins, the needed paths
For inspiration and high mastery.

No simpler man than he; he never cried,
"why was I born to this monotonous task
Of making violins?" or flung them down
To suit with hurling act well-hurled curse
At labor on such perishable stuff.
Hence neighbors in Cremona held him dull,
Called him a slave, a mill-horse, a machine.

Naldo, a painter of eclectic school,
Knowing all tricks of style at thirty-one,
And weary of them, while Antonio
At sixty-nine wrought placidly his best,
Making the violin you heard today -
Naldo would tease him oft to tell his aims.
"Perhaps thou hast some pleasant vice to feed -
the love of louis d'ors in heaps of four,
Each violin a heap - I've naught to blame;
My vices waste such heaps. But then, why work
With painful nicety?"

Antonio then:
"I like the gold - well, yes - but not for meals.
And as my stomach, so my eye and hand,
And inward sense that works along with both,
Have hunger that can never feed on coin.
Who draws a line and satisfies his soul,
Making it crooked where it should be straight?
Antonio Stradivari has an eye
That winces at false work and loves the true."
Then Naldo: "'Tis a petty kind of fame
At best, that comes of making violins;
And saves no masses, either. Thou wilt go
To purgatory none the less."

But he:
"'Twere purgatory here to make them ill;
And for my fame - when any master holds
'Twixt chin and hand a violin of mine,
He will be glad that Stradivari lived,
Made violins, and made them of the best.
The masters only know whose work is good:
They will choose mine, and while God gives them skill
I give them instruments to play upon,
God choosing me to help him.

"What! Were God
at fault for violins, thou absent?"

"Yes;
He were at fault for Stradivari's work."

"Why, many hold Giuseppe's violins
As good as thine."

"May be: they are different.
His quality declines: he spoils his hand
With over-drinking. But were his the best,
He could not work for two. My work is mine,
And, heresy or not, if my hand slacked
I should rob God - since his is fullest good -
Leaving a blank instead of violins.
I say, not God himself can make man's best
Without best men to help him.

'Tis God gives skill,
But not without men's hands: he could not make
Antonio Stradivari's violins
Without Antonio. Get thee to thy easel."

The Historian

Rain falls steadily, wind torments the trees, thunder cracks the sky and lightening dancing paints the earth as I pull up and park outside of my boss’s home.
Tonight, is not a good night to be caught outside on a roam.
A positive note, my boss’s house has a front door made out of chrome.
His front yard is littered with creepy gnomes.

My wife gives me a look wondering why we are here and questioning my sanity.
I reassure her my boss is a good man and has a heart filled with love by Christianity.
She tells me believing in a mystical being is a form of insanity.
I tell her to stop with the blasphemy,
my boss is a good man whom has never uttered a single profanity.
My boss is better than both of us single handily.
Three months ago, he hired me into his company after a long period of unemployment and has ever since treated me like family.
He has exceeded all of my former bosses combined actually.
My wife has no need to worry, she needs to get over the delusional fantasy
she’s playing over and over again in her head callously.

I walk with my wife hand in hand up to the front door and knock.
My wife frowns at me and tells me we don’t belong on this block.
My boss invited us for dinner, we won’t be turning that down,
besides, he’s the only person I can truly call a friend in this town.
He picked me up from the ashes and filled my life with hope.
A few more days of struggle and hardship and I’m afraid you would have found me hanging from a rope.
This man saved my life in my most dire time of need.
We owe him more than we can ever pay, even if my wife may not agree.

My boss answers the door with a friendly hello and a warm smile.
I look at my wife and smile to show her she has no reason to be hostile.
***** needs to loosen up and enjoy the night,
but she’s put off by the fact that we are people of color and my boss is white.
Racist ******* she needs to get over because there is no place for it here,
or I will pierce her heart and soul with a slanders venom laced spear.

We walk inside where I immediately notice a large collection of historical artifacts.
Based on the outside, I was expecting an interior with a bit more pomp and circumstance.
Old flags and pictures line the interior.
Still, my home feels rather inferior.

“Thank you for coming tonight Antonio.
Dinner will be ready shortly.
If you don’t mind, allow me to show you a couple rooms of my beautiful home.
Outside of work, things work a little differently deep down in my dome.
I’m an history fanatic and have a large collection of historical artifacts.
My collection is so massive I often feel like I’ve gone slightly manic.
Here, follow me and I’ll give you a brief tour of a couple rooms.
I promise these rooms are fun to be in and are nothing like a tomb.”

We walk into a room where I discover it contains a large collection of American Revolutionary War artifacts.
They are many pictures hanging on the wall, each with a plague underneath it explaining some facts.
George Washington,
Thomas Jefferson,
Benjamin Franklin,
John Adams,
Thomas Hutchinson
Joseph Brant,
along with Thomas Paine and his common sense.
There are old fire arms, books, clothing and flags.
I’m sure all of these items costed a pretty little price tag.

I exit the room and walk into the next room to discover…
A **** themed room and dedication to the holocaust.
My wife walks in behind me, I can feel her heart skip a few beats.
She stares at me and gives me a glare that’s not so nice.
There is a large picture of Adolf ****** hanging on the wall.
I swallow my spit, take a deep breath as my nerves act up and fear begins to crawl
up my spinal cord.
There are many more rooms left in this house, but after this room I no longer feel a need to explore.
Multiple **** flags pollute the room.
This room is a lot to take in and consume.
My boss (Nathan Kline) has written speeches of Adolf ****** framed and hung on the wall.
I’m not sure how anyone would react to this room except with appall.

“Antonio, I see you found my **** artifact room.
The look on your face is concerning to me and I admit that this room can be a lot to consume,
but it’s not to be taken in a negative way.
I’m a history nut, both good history and the bad, what else can I say?
What the ****’s and ****** did were terrible and beyond words and this room is not to honor them.
This room is to preserve this part of our history, as bad as it is, so we learn from it and don’t make the same mistake ever again, that’s the place of my heart this room is coming from.
Listen, you guys must be starving, what do you say we go eat some delicious food and talk about some brighter topics?
Maybe you can tell me about some of your interests and hobbies and teach me about a topic in which I’m a novice.”
My wife looks at me, a fire burning in her eyes.
Once we leave here, she’s either going to rip me apart or break down and cry.
She forces a smile, grabs my arm and tells me it’s time to join our host for dinner.
She knows how to hide displeasure and fake kindness, she’s no beginner.

We follow Nathan to the dining room to discover an older gentleman already seated at the table.
He radiates a warm smile in our direction, he seems rather graceful.

“Antonio, Katrina, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to world renowned neurosurgeon, Dr. James Allen Blake.
I invited him here tonight to enjoy this wonderful feast we are about to share that’s center pieced by a one of a kind steak.
Dr. Blake and I have been friends for many years.
He knows all of my darkest secrets, all of my loves and fears.”

“Antonio, Katrina, it’s my pleasure the meet the two of you.
I am a neurosurgeon, that part is true,
but what Nathan has neglected to tell you is…I’m retired!
Just recently actually and now I’m trying to find new activities to do to fill all of my new found free time that I’ve acquired rather undesired.
This dinner is a celebration of my long career and also a celebration of making new friends,
so, cheers to the two of you and thank you for joining us here tonight.”
We shake Dr. Burke’s hand then take a seat at the table ready to eat.
I’m glad to hear we are having steak, it’s my favorite meat.
A gentleman of color walks in from out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of the finest wine.
His eyes are cold, he doesn’t smile, I wonder if he’s mentally fine.
He pours the four of us a glass of wine then departs without saying a word.
Do I bring up his demeanor with Nathan or do I defer?
**** it, I’ll ask.
I want to know why his face looks like he just got done surviving doomsday.

“Not the friendliest person is he,” I mention nodding in the direction of the man from the kitchen.

“That’s just how Robert is, it takes him awhile to warm up to new people.
Once he opens up you will realize his heart is full of love and not evil.
Besides, he is the best cook I have ever met.
I made his acquaintance during a time when he was working 60 hours a week and still struggling to pay rent.
I went out eat at this run-down restaurant over on 9th and hilltop and the food was fantastic.
Honestly, I was expecting it to taste like plastic.
I was so impressed that I asked the waitress if I could talk with the cook.
He came out, I told him how great his food was.  He thanked me then told me that no matter how hard he worked there, every day he was still broke.
I made him an offer to come cook dinner for me five nights a week and he accepted and walked out the restaurant right then and there with me.
When he walked out of that place, it was like a giant weight was lifted off of him and suddenly he was free.
He started cooking for me the very next day and has been here ever since.
He may have been taken for granted at that restaurant, but here he’s treated like a prince.
Sure, he’s a bit rough around the edges but he’s a good man.
Taking care of him like he takes care of me is my plan.
Now that we have wine, how about a toast.
Here is to my new friends Antonio and Katrina, to you Dr. Burke and to our wonderful cook…cheers!”

Katrina and I take a big sip of the wine then set the glass down.
The wine is good enough to serve to the royal crown.
Nathan and James sit their glasses down without taking a drink.
That’s strange…I begin to think.
I go to ask why they didn’t take a drink but begin to feel light headed.
Katrina looks at me frightful, eyes cold blooded.
She tells me she doesn’t feel well, stands up to go to the bathroom but collapses and falls hard to the floor.
I go to get up to help her but I’m suddenly brought down to all fours.
I crawl over to her as Nathan appears over us.
He tells us we have something to discuss.

“Antonio, Katrina, please look each other in the eyes.
Take a moment because this is your only chance to say goodbye.
You are about to pass out and when you awake…
well you will no longer be you.
Dr. Burke is going to rewire your brains to make you perfectly obedient slaves for me.
The life you know it is over, you will no longer be free.
You two won’t even recognize each other after this, you will be complete strangers who’s only objective is to serve me without question.
I’m sorry if you feel like this is oppression.
It was actually Dr. Burke’s suggestion
to rewire *******’ brains to make them slaves again.
I must admit, with Robert, it turned out to be a great plan.
With you two, I’m sure it will work just as well.
Well enjoy the last few seconds you have left to dwell.”

I look my wife in the eye and can see the terror that has overcome her.
Never in my wildest imagination did I think something like this would occur.
Nathan treated me like family, but it was all for show.
He will ultimately pay the price for his actions here tonight after he dies and Satan ***** him in the *** while playing a banjo!
I reach out my arm and hold my wife’s hand one final time
as the world around fades to black.

“James, when you are done and have them ready for me, meet me in the master bedroom with them.”
----------------------------------------------------------­---------------------------------------

I enter the master bedroom the admire the work James has done for me.

“Pretty impressive, don’t you agree?”

Antonio and Katrina appear emotionless and cold.
They are firmly under my control.
I say hello to greet the pair.
They respond with a hello master then bow down and kiss my shoe.

“I’m very happy to have the two of you here.”

“We are here to serve you and satisfy you in every way possible master.”

“Antonio, I would like you to begin cleaning all of the toilets in the house using a toothbrush and cleaner.”
He promptly agrees and departs to do just that, “thank you Antonio I love your demeanor.
Katrina, you sure are you cute little thing.
What would you do to please your king?”

“Anything you wish sir; your happiness is all I care about.”

“That is the correct answer Katrina, now how about you get a little bit more comfortable and take your clothes off.”

Katrina immediately stirps down to nothing and stands **** in front of me.
This is the way I always want her to be…
Naked and pleasing me in my bed.
I hope she gives great head.
Don’t patronage me for this.
Washington, Jefferson and all of our forefathers had slaves and procreated with the females.
They had many children with them.
Katrina will provide me with many of my own.
She is a fine little specimen.
Nice tight body, firm ***, perky ****, she’s going to be a fun ride.

“Get in bed Katrina and start ******* yourself I’ll be right there to make love to you.
Thank you for everything you have done here James, I can’t ever express my gratitude in the appropriate way.”

“Well when the time comes for you to return the favor I will call on you.
As for now, I will leave you be with your new toy so get busy kid!”

Spaniards voice
Culture scents
San Antonio, Texas was my vacation
My account being my personal proclamation
The enriched history inspired me being pure rejuvenation
Here is my presentation
Do you know what San Antonio in Texas means?
Saint Anthony
So what’s in a name could be a person born with the same
My exploration took me on tour of all the highlights that made San Antonio, and why it is a major city
It was Medical Centers, Universities, and San Antonio Zoo, which I witnessed from an Aerial view
I even visited the famous, “ALAMO”
The Mexican Spanish War fighting for independence
But there is a unique side of San Antonio, and it is the “RIVERWALK”
It’s those floating taxi’s that bring the Riverwalk alive and extends into the suburbs
Yet, there is a European atmosphere culture at the Café’s at the Riverwalk edge
You hear the serene tempo music of Violin’s acquaint sunset going down and the evening air sets the stage for a romantic evening under the stars and moon
This is all happening at all Café’s tables as you wine and dine
Enchanted as I was, I took in all the San Antonio accord
I stayed Seven days at the Holiday Inn Riverwalk in Downtown San Antonio, Texas
So you know my Folio
It was a venture of delight
Those Texans know how to shed light
Friendly citizens within San Antonio, the city
Having to return back home to New York City was my pity.

Shadows move with my feet on the cobblestone
from the sunlight dancing on the picado banners
that stretch between buildings
And offer some reprieve
From the Texas sun.

The mouth-watering scent of pan dulce
Draws children to the glass fronts of the old bakery,
And they flit between sweet breads
And figurines of brilliant colors
Crowding stands run by elderly craftsmen and women with big smiles-

San Antonio,
There’s something in your streets.
Something binds me to your old, leaning buildings,
And the murals that decorate them,
San Antonio,

My first memories of reading
Reside on 600 Soledad Street
between the shelves of the Big Enchilada,
And dapple down through the glossy, colorful limbs
of its Chihuly spine.

You exist in the border between coastal plains and the hill country,
Mesquite trees and palm trees living side by side
Just as the German and Spanish settlements do,
The missions becoming as much a part of the land
As the Guadelupe.

With tequila on my tongue,
And boots on my feet,
I’m prepared to bask in the warmth absorbed by sandy loam
And breathe in the smell of elotas on a Sunday afternoon
To the sound of San Fernando’s bells,

Oh, San Antonio…
I’ve never wished for a better dwelling,
Even one with cooler summers
And smoother streets,
Oh, San Antonio…

I’d be a fool to leave you,
To call another home,
And I’ve never found myself foolish before,
So my dearest, sweetest, most proud San Antonio,
I am here to stay.

I hear cruel laughter, I run and run,
Trying to get away from it,
Not wanting to hear it anymore,
But I still hear it,
And it's getting louder still,
Then I hear crying,
Is it my own voice?!
No, it is not,
Instead I see another man,
Who is wearing a red hat on his head.
He is crying, and begging for them to stop,
but they don't, they only act even worse,
toward the defenseless old man.
Then I see so many people spitting on the crying man.
Yet again, he begs for them to stop their cruelty.
Yet again, he begs for them to give him a reason.
But they don't stop, and they don't give him a reason.
In fact, it seems like his pleading inspired them to act,
Even crueller towards him, a frail old man.
Then they beat him, and torment him,
again and again. They use so many cruel methods.
And then he cries out in agony yet again,
Because he is afraid, because he is scared.
Because he wants to know why they are doing this to him.
Because he wants them to leave him alone.
And despite this,
No, because of this,
They continue tormenting him,
And then after a while of this,
He finally fights back,
And gets his revenge on one of them.
That tormentor's name is Antonio,
And he was one of the worst out of all of them.
For, to paraphrase this poor old man,
He, ie, Antonio, has disgraced me,
Sabotaged my bussiness, laughed when
I lost, mocked me when I gained,
Hated and mocked my nation,
The tribe of Israel, God's chosen,
The tribe of Judah, the Jews,
Thwarted my business deals,
Tried to turn my friends against me,
Tried to make my enemies act,
Even worse towards me, then they already do.
Why does he do these cruel things to me,
Because I am a Jew. Do Jews not have eyes?!
Do Jews not have hands?! Do Jews not have organs?!
Are Jews not human beings, like Christians?!
(They were already laughing, but this makes,
Them laugh even harder, for to them, the thought,
Of a Jew being a human being, just like them,
Is a joke to them, and a very funny one too.)
Do Jews not have senses, afflictions, passions?!
If you ***** a Jew, does he not bleed?!
If you tickle him, does he not laugh?!
If you poison him, does he not die?!
So if you wrong him, he isn't allowed to get revenge?!
What would you do, if you were in my shoes,
And either I, or any other Jew, wronged you?!
I know, you would get revenge on that Jew?!
So if you wrong me, I'm not allowed to do the same?!'
No, I am going to get my well deserved revenge.
The villainy you show me, I will repeat, much to
Your hypocritical outrage against it."
There is also another reason why,
He is so angry, and rightly so,
They also stole his daughter, Jessica from him.
Even worse, Antonio and Bassonio helped them do it.
So, with the law that he reveres,
He tries to get his revenge on Antonio.
Sadly, the law is biased against him.
Then he gets condemned,
And beaten, and punished.
Then, after taking everything else from him,
They take his faith from him, which was all
He had left that he loved. They force him to,
Convert to Christianity. He then cries out,
He then weeps, and this,
Causes them to laugh at,
That poor old Jewish man.a
Then they mock him,
"Silly Jew", they say cruelly,
"You don't have rights, only people have rights!"
They may not be using the same words,
But it's the same meaning,
Then the Jew says,
In his own words,
That he's a person too,
This makes them laugh,
Aw, he thinks he's people,
They seem to be saying,
In their own words,
And then I get upset,
How would you feel, I yell,
if he did this to you.
However, despite that they can't
Answer me, I feel like they have,
And they're telling me that,
he's a Jew, and they're Christians,
so he's an Alien, so they can be cruel,
Towards him, while he can't do anything
About it. What cowards those so called
Christians are, they bully an old man,
Who isn't allowed to do anything about it.
I want to cry.
I want to scream.
I want to stand up,
for him, for that old Jew,
who has nobody on his side.
But I know that they will never hear me,
For I am looking at a mirror,
A storybook, it's just a story,
About an poor old Jew named Shylock,
Who tried to get revenge on his
Worst tormentor, Antonio by
killing him, so Antonio wouldn't
Be around to hurt him anymore,
But he failed. And all because,
He's a Jew, just like me.
I'm looking at the past,
I'm looking at a storybook,
A world where Jews are aliens,
Second class citizens.
It isn't my life.
And that is a thing,
I am very grateful for,
And I cry for him, for I know,
that he won't be okay. For he is
plagued by those cruel Christians.
I cry for him, for I am a Jew too,
But I was lucky enough,
To escape being born during,
The time that story was in.
I won the lottery of time,
By being born in the
Modern day, the 21st century.
I was fortunate enough,
To be born in a time,
Where Jews are allowed to be,
Citizens, instead of being an
Alien, subject to Alien Laws.
As was the fate of poor Shylock.
It was a lucky accident,
For me to be born,
in my country, in my time,
And If I wasn't as fortunate,
As I am, as I truly am,
I could have been born,
Back then, in the story's time period,
In the Venice of his time, in the story,
Where I would have been treated so cruelly,
Without even being allowed to defend myself,
Thank goodness I wasn't born in the story,
For I have rights that poor Shylock,
Can only dream of, and longs for everyday,
Thank goodness that I'm not in the same position,
As poor Shylock, but I must study that time,
So it will never happen again.

I’m leaving today
On this San Antonio Highway
While San Antonio jazz
Oozes through the speakers
Of this big blue Subaru

I-35 N to Austin
Destination Texarkana
And in two days’ time
July 15th 2015
I will be back home
To the humid Ohio weather

Ohio is covered in rain
But on this San Antonio Highway
The sky is dark and the ground is dry
And Louis Armstrong sings away

PROLOGUE:

“’We must stop this brain working for twenty years.’” So said Mussolini’s Grand Inquisitor, his official Fascist prosecutor addressing the judge in Antonio Gramsci’s 1928 trial; so said the Il Duce’s Torquemada, ending his peroration with this infamous demand.’”  Gramsci, Antonio: Selections from the Prison Notebooks, Introduction, translation from Italian and publishing by Quintin ***** & Geoffrey Nowell Smith, International Publishers, New York, 1971.

BE IT RESOLVED: Whereas, I introduce this book with a nod of deep respect to Antonio Gramsci--an obscure but increasingly pertinent political scientist it would behoove us all to read and study today, I dedicate the book itself to my great grandfather and key family patriarch, Pietro Buonaiuto (1865-1940) of Moschiano, in the province of Avellino, in the region of Campania, southern Italy.

Let it be recognized that Pete Buonaiuto may not have had Tony Gramsci’s brain, but he certainly exhibited an extreme case of what his son--my paternal grandfather, Francesco Buonaiuto--termed: Testaduro. Literally, it means Hardhead, but connotes something far beyond the merely stubborn. We’re talking way out there in the unknown, beyond that inexplicable void where hotheaded hardheads regurgitate their next move, more a function of indigestion than thought. Given any situation, a Testaduro would rather bring acid reflux and bile to the mix than exercise even a skosh of gray muscle matter.  But there’s more. It gets worse.

To truly comprehend the densely-packed granite that is the Testaduro mind, we must now sub-focus our attention on the truly obdurate, extreme examples of what my paternal grandmother—Vicenza di Maria Buonaiuto—they called her Jennie--would describe as reflexive cutta-dey-noze-a-offa-to-spite-a-dey-face-a types. I reference the truly defiant, or T.D.—obviously short for both truly defiant and Testaduro. T.D.’s—a breed apart--smiling and sneering, laughing and, finally, begging their regime-appointed torture apparatchik (a career-choice getting a great deal of attention from the certificate mills--the junior colleges and vocational specialty institutes) mocking their Guantanamo-trained torturer: “Is that what you call punishment?  Is that all you ******* got?”

If, to assist comprehension, you require a literary frame of context, might I suggest you compare the Buonaiuto mind to Paul Lazzaro, Vonnegut’s superbly drawn Italian-American WWII soldier-lunatic with a passion for revenge, who kept a list of people who ****** with him, people he would have killed someday for a thousand dollars.

Go with me, Reader, go back with me to Vonnegut’s Slaughter-House-Five: “Billy Pilgrim has become unstuck in time . . .”
It is long past the Tralfamadorian abduction and his friendship with Stony Stevenson. Billy is back in Germany, one of three dingbat American G.I.s roaming around beyond enemy lines.  Another of the three is Private Lazzaro, a former car thief and undeniable psychopath from Cicero, Illinois.

Paul Lazzaro:  “Anybody touches me, he better **** me, or I’m gonna have him killed. Revenge is the sweetest thing there is. People **** with me, and Jesus Christ are they ever ******* sorry. I laugh like hell. I don’t care if it’s a guy or a dame. If the President of the United States ****** around with me, I’d fix him good. Revenge is the sweetest thing in life. And nobody ever got it from Lazzaro who didn’t have it coming.  Anybody who ***** with me? I’m gonna have him shot after the war, after he gets home, a big ******* hero with dames climbing all over him. He’ll settle down. A couple of years ‘ll go by, and then one day a knock at the door. He’ll answer the door and there’ll be a stranger out there. The stranger’ll ask him if he’s so and so. When he says he is, the stranger’ll say, ‘Paul Lazzaro sent me.’ And then he’ll pull out a gun and shoot his pecker off. The stranger’ll let him think a couple seconds about who Paul Lazzaro is and what life’s gonna be like without a pecker. Then he’ll shoot him once in the gut and walk away. Nobody ***** with Paul Lazzaro!”

(ENTER AUTHOR. HE SPEAKS: “Hey, Numb-nuts! Yes, you, my Reader. Do you want to get ****** into reading that Vonnegut blurb over and over again for the rest of the afternoon, or can I get you back into my manuscript?  That Paul Lazzaro thing was just my way of trying to give you a frame of reference, not to have you ******* drift off, walking away from me, your hand held tightly in nicotine-stained fingers. So it goes, you Ja-Bone. It was for comparison purposes.  Get it?  But, if you insist, go ahead and compare a Buonaiuto—any Buonaiuto--with the character, Paul Lazzaro. No comparison, but if you want a need a number—you quantitative ****--multiply the seating capacity of the Roman Coliseum by the gross tonnage of sheet pane glass that crystalized into small fixed puddles of glazed smoke, falling with the steel, toppling down into rubble on 9/11/2001. That’s right: multiply the number of Coliseum seats times a big, double mound of rubble, that double-smoking pile of concrete and rebar and human cadavers, formerly known as “The Twin Towers, World Trade Center, Lower Manhattan, NYC.  It’s a big number, Numb-nuts! And it illustrates the adamantine resistance demonstrated by the Buonaiuto strain of the Testaduro virus. Shall we return to my book?)

The truth is Italian-Americans were never overzealous about WWII in the first place. Italians in America, and other places like Argentina, Canada, and Australia were never quite sure whom they were supposed to be rooting for. But that’s another story. It was during that war in 1944, however, that my father--John Felix Buonaiuto, a U.S. Army sergeant and recent Anzio combat vet decided to visit Moschiano, courtesy of a weekend pass from 5th Army Command, Naples.  In a rough-hewn, one-room hut, my father sat before a lukewarm stone fireplace with the white-haired Carmine Buonaiuto, listening to that ancient one, spouting straight **** about his grandfather—Pietro Buonaiuto--my great-grandfather’s past. Ironically, I myself, thirty yeas later, while also serving in the United States Army, found out in the same way, in the same rough-hewn, one-room hut, in front of the same lukewarm fireplace, listening to the same Carmine Buonaiuto, by now the old man and the sea all by himself. That’s how I discovered the family secret in Moschiano. It was 1972 and I was assigned to a NATO Cold War stay-behind operation. The operation, code-named GLADIO—had a really cool shield with a sword, the fasces and other symbols of its legacy and purpose. GLADIO was a clandestine anti-communist agency in Italy in the 1970s, with one specific target:  Il Brigate Rosso, the Red Brigades.  This was in my early 20s. I was back from Vietnam, and after a short stint as an FBI confidential informant targeting campus radicals at the University of Miami, I was back in uniform again. By the way, my FBI gig had a really cool codename also: COINTELPRO, which I thought at the time had something to do with tapping coin operated telephones. Years later, I found out COINTELPRO stood for counter-intelligence program.  I must have had a weakness for insignias, shields and codenames, because there I was, back in uniform, assigned to Army Intelligence, NATO, Italy, “OPERATION GLADIO.“

By the way, Buonaiuto is pronounced:

Bwone-eye-you-toe . . . you ignorant ****!

Oh yes, prepare yourself for insult, Kemosabe! I refuse to soft soap what ensues.  After all, you’re the one on trial here this time, not Gramsci and certainly not me. Capeesh?

Let’s also take a moment, to pay linguistic reverence to the language of Seneca, Ovid & Virgil. I refer, of course, to Latin. Latin is called: THE MOTHER TONGUE. Which is also what we used to call both Mary Delvecchio--kneeling down in the weeds off Atlantic Avenue--& Esther Talayumptewa --another budding, Hopi Corn Maiden like my mother—pulling trains behind the creosote bush up on Black Mesa.  But those are other stories.

LATIN: Attention must be paid!

Take the English word obdurate, for example—used in my opening paragraph, the phrase truly obdurate: {obdurate, ME, fr. L. obduratus, pp. of obdurare to harden, fr. Ob-against + durus hard –More at DURING}.

Getting hard? Of course you are. Our favorite characters are the intransigent: those who refuse to bend. Who, therefore, must be broken: Paul Newman in Cool Hand Luke comes to mind. Or Paul Newman again as Fast Eddie, that cocky kid who needed his wings clipped and his thumbs broken. Or Paul Newman once more, playing Eddie Felson again; Fast Eddie now slower, a shark grown old, deliberative now, no longer cute, dimples replaced with an insidious sneer, still fighting and hustling but in shrewder, more subtle ways. (Credit: Scorsese’s brilliant homage The Color of Money.)

The Color of Money (1986) - IMDb www.imdb.com/title/tt0090863 Internet MovieDatabase Rating: 7/10 - ‎47,702 votes. Paul Newman and Helen Shaver; still photo: Tom Cruise in The Color of Money (1986) Still of Paul Newman in The Color of Money (1986). Full Cast & Crew - ‎Awards - ‎Trivia - ‎Plot Summary

Perhaps it was the Roman Catholic Church I rebelled against.  The Catholic Church: certainly a key factor for any Italian-American, a stinger, a real burr under the saddle, biting, setting off insurrection again and again. No. Worse: prompting Revolt! And who could blame us? Catholicism had that spooky Latin & Incense going for it, but who wouldn’t rise up and face that Kraken? The Pope and his College of Cardinals? A Vatican freak show—a red shoe, twinkle-toe, institutional anachronism; the Curia, ferreting out the good, targeting anything that felt even half-way good, classifying, pronouncing verboten, even what by any stretch of the imagination, would be deemed to be merely kind of pleasant, slamming down that peccadillo rubber-stamp. Sin: was there ever a better drug? Sin? Revolution, **** yeah!  Anyone with an ounce of self-respect would have gone to the barricades.

But I digress.

A truck picked them up near the Mexican border
And drove across Texas in blistering heat.
A hundred or more were crammed together
With nothing to drink and nothing to eat.

The big rig rolled down the Texas highway
Heading for San Antonio, they say.
Smugglers would pick up their "cargo" there,
And SUVs would cart them away.

The temperature inside the tractor-
Trailer was over 100 degrees.
The door of the trailer was locked from the outside.
The driver ignored the passengers' pleas.

Chorus:
Farewell, dear friends--queridos amigos.
Were you a father, a brother, a son?
Whatever your motivations, you
All were victims in more ways than one.

When authorities found the vehicle
And opened the door and looked inside,
Eight of the passengers remaining
In the tractor-trailer had died.

Two more victims died in the hospital.
Others remained in a critical state.
Dehydration and heatstroke had been
Cruel agents of their sad fate.

Desperate to find better conditions,
They learned that success is not guaranteed.
Hopes can be dashed and life can be threatened
When you're a victim of smugglers' greed.

Chorus:
Farewell, dear friends--queridos amigos.
Were you a father, a brother, a son?
Whatever your motivations, you
All were victims in more ways than one.

(7-25-17) By Bob B

The Scientist

“Good evening everyone, I’m your host Andrew Pittman here with my beautiful girlfriend Rachel and my new friends Nathan and Amanda and we are about to enter the house of the famous Dr. James Allen Burke.
I honestly can’t wait to meet the man and to upload this amazing video so you all can admire and take in my hard work.
If it wasn’t for you guys, my loyal viewers, I wouldn’t be doing this.
I’m a little nervous to find out what Dr. Burke is up too, but this is an opportunity I can’t afford to miss.
I will keep the tape rolling the entire time I’m in there to capture everything that happens on camera for you guys.
I’m sure viewer discretion will be advised.
We are arriving at the front door of Dr. Burke’s home now so here goes nothing!
Hopefully I don’t capture anything too disgusting.”

Nathan opens the front door and welcomes us inside the home of Dr. Burke.
Once inside, he looks into the camera, winks and gives a little smirk.
The house is rather chilly and dark,
but massive in scope, a palace for a true monarch.

All the lights are turned off as if no one is even home.
Sitting in the corner of what appears to be a living room stands a rather creepy gnome.
The house is silent; I’m convinced we would be able to hear a pin drop.
I wonder where Dr. Burke is hiding amongst this lifeless backdrop.

Nathan stops walking and looks directly into my camera.
He speaks into it saying what we are about to witness will be glamorous.
He says that we are about to head downstairs where all of the festivities are taking place,
then looks at me and says he can’t wait to see the shock on my pale face.

Nathan opens a door revealing a dark staircase with a glimmer of light at the bottom.
I’m not sure if this will lead to something amazing or a problem.
Wish I had a minute to chug a bottle
before walking into this man’s basement full throttle.

I’m not going to lie to my viewers, I’m feeling rather uneasy about this.
I grab Rachel and give her a kiss
as we begin to descend into the basement via the staircase.
We are moments away from finding out what is going on in this place.

We reach the bottom of the staircase to discover a large room full of medical equipment and other devices.
Looking at all of the equipment, I can’t imagine all of their prices.
A man is standing over a girl who’s lying unconscious on it.
A sight that is a little disturbing, I will admit.
A body covered up with a sheet lies on a table next to the girl.
Thoughts of what possibly is going on here deep in my dome begin to swirl.

“Doctor Burke, I hope you don’t mind but I have brought some new friends of mine with me to see this miraculous moment happen.
They are a little uneasy about what’s going on here but I’m sure that soon they will be clapping.”

“Doctor Burke!  You are a legend!  It’s great to meet you, my name is Andrew and this is my girlfriend Rachel, I’m here to capture this…moment on camera if you don’t mind.”

“Welcome my new friends and I don’t mind at all.
The worlds preconceived beliefs and notions on what medicine and science can achieve are about to fall!
What I have done here will change the fate of mankind forever!
The day in which we die will soon become never.”

“What do you mean?
What are you doing here?”

I notice the girl is bald and has stiches all around her head.
Did he bring her back from the dead?
What’s the deal with the body under the blanket on the other table?
This man is either a one of a kind genius or completely unstable.

“I will explain everything to you right now.
Get ready to raise your eyebrows.
This young girl here is named Sarah.
She was a nice girl but like to wear too much mascara.
Anyways, her parents contacted me awhile back asking me for my help and guidance.
You see, what they discovered dear Sarah was up too had them frightened.
It turns out that Sarah’s sister discovered her having *** with the family dog.
She confessed to her sister that she was addicted to *** and that the dog was the main character of her ****** catalogue.
She then tried to convince her sister into joining her in bed.
Her sister ran away from her with her heart filled with dread.
She reported what Sarah was doing to her parents and they immediately contacted me to help them find a way to cure her from her ****** depraved disease.
I had an operation in mind to remove that part of her brain to put an end to her sickness and thought it was going to be a breeze.
Unfortunately, I ran into complications and she ended up dying on the operating table.
I was able to keep her body and organs alive but her brain was completely disabled,
which is good news for me and my dear mother here underneath this blanket.
Thanks to this young body and our advancement in medicine and science, my mother won’t have to be buried in a casket.
You see, I learned everything I know from my mother who is even more brilliant than I am.
What we have accomplished here today is a result of years of hard work and is no scam.
My mother was 103 years old and her body had failed her, but her mind was just as sharp as ever.
So, thanks to her encouragement, we decided to embark on this endeavor.
In order to live on, I have transplanted my mother’s brain, her entire consciousness into Sarah’s body.
It took me 28 hours to complete and a large amount of coffee,
but my mother’s brain and consciousness is now inside Sarah’s body.
Sarah is no longer Sarah, rather my mother in a far younger vessel.
As soon as she wakes up, which should be any minute now, you will see the success of this first ever kind of operation for yourself.”

I’m shocked, finding it difficult to breath, as I lower my camera and shake my head.
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“You look a little overwhelmed Andrew, would you like a glass of water?”

I look up as a black man appears in front of me offering me a glass of water with an emotionless stare on his face.

“This is Antonio, Nathan’s butler, he will be serving us drinks this evening.”
I take the class and thank him for the water as he turns around without saying a word and walks away.

“Now that you have a glass of water and are beginning to process all of this,
I can inform you of the whereabouts of Chris.
That is why you were in his house, am I correct?
Do discover what happened to him?”

“Ye…Yes it would be nice to find out what happened to him.”

“Antonio, bring him out here!”

Antonio reappears pushing a chair with a man tied down to it and with a cloth stuffed in his mouth to prevent him from speaking.
He can’t speak but I can tell by the verbs running through his eyes that internally he’s shrieking.
I do recognize the man right away; this is Chris Morris.
The second surprise I have discovered here in this house.

“While the police were struggling to find out what happened to the two girls that disappeared after being with Chris,
Nathan and I were busy running surveillance on him and knew that he had the two girls locked up in his house and was using them as *** slaves.
We didn’t expect the second girl Erin to fall in love with him and enjoy being his slave,
but once that happened and we felt that Ambers life was in danger due to Erin becoming jealous of her being pregnant with Chris’s child, we made our move to take out Chris and save the girls.
We subdued Chris and brought him back here, while placing an anonymous call to the police informing them of the whereabouts of the girls.
Chris is now waiting to fulfill the purpose I have in store for him here.
My mother is only the first part of this operation.
Once she awakens, she will assume my role at this wonderful station.
My brain and consciousness will then be transferred into Chris’s body so I can attain a younger vessel as well.
Then, we will leave the country to find a new place to dwell,
while everyone here thinks we are dead because our brainless bodies will be discovered.
Everyone will wonder what happened to our brains and question why they were taken out of our bodies, but the truth will never be uncovered.
My mother and I will be allowed to live in peace and will have the freedom to quietly carry out our scientific and medical breakthroughs.
Your camera will of course be destroyed right before you leave and if you refuse,
well, bad people will do bad things to you so plan on playing along.”

I put the camera down and shake my head again.

“I hate to tell you Doctor Burke but I feel this isn’t going to…”

The body of Sarah suddenly sits up from the table as her eyes slowly open.
I pick the camera back up and get closer to her to capture this ****** up moment.

With her eye lids now open, Sarah’s’ eyes are revealed to be pure black.
A wicked, evil smile appears across her face, a smile so fiendish that it could cause a mirror to crack.

“Mother can you hear me?
Mother are you there?”

The girl Sarah speaks, “Your mother is burning in the fires of hell with the girl Sarah.
It’s where you will be going very shortly Doctor Burke.
It’s time for you to pay for all of your sins.
Your death now begins!”

With lightening quick speed, the girl jumps up from the table and grabs onto Doctor Burke’s throat forcing him to the ground.
Doctor Burkes tries to call out for help but can’t get out a sound.
The girl tightens her grip as the Doctors eyes roll back into his head.
In a matter of seconds, he is dead.

A loud bang rings out as I turn and see the chair Chris is tied to tipped over and a dark shadow figure ripping out his throat with its mouth.
He too will quickly be heading south.
Nathan turns to run but is jumped on by the girl who begins to bash his face into the ground.
The screams of him crying out in agony is a sickening sound.

Antonio runs to try to save his master but the girl is quick to drop him to the ground and begins to smash his head into the floor as well.
Rachel and I are next I’m sure, our deaths you can essentially smell.

I grab Rachel by the arm and drag her behind me towards the staircase.
If we end up getting killed by this girl, we are at least giving her a chase.
I close the basement door behind us as we run up the stairs towards the main level of the house.
I whisper to Rachel that I really wanted to make her my spouse.
She tells me we are getting out of here and afterwards, I can do just that
and that she would then like to adopt a cat.

We make a break for the front door then come to a dead stop as the sight of a man standing in front of it invades our vison.
I need to figure out what to do next and make it a quick decision.
Its two on one, maybe we can run through the man and out the front door.
I briefly check him out to see what kind of confrontation we have in store.

The man is dressed in a black suite and supports a pointed goatee.
He smiles at us motioning to us to come closer to him and urges us not to flee.
His tie is red and seemingly dripping of blood.
Fear begins pouring out of me in a flood.
A snake slithers around his shoulders and neck.
On second thought, maybe we will turn around and head towards the back deck.

“My dear Andrew and Rachel, there is no need to be afraid.
You made a decision that will shortly result in the end of your lives, but there’s that price you two need to pay.
I’ll make death real easy on you two since you had nothing to do with the terrible experiments taking place here.
You’re simply going to come with me and disappear.
No mangled bodies to be found later by the police.
I’ll make sure you enjoy the rest of eternity with me in peace.
Not everyone goes through extreme torment in my domain.
I won’t even have you experience any real pain.
By the look on your faces, I can tell you’re wondering where God is.
He unfortunately doesn’t want you two to be his.
You see, the two of you never really believed in him or accepted Jesus as your savior or ask for forgiveness for all of your sins.
Plus, you documented some pretty messed up and illegal things
on your camera there and posted it for the world to see for your own personal gain.
You thought with these “wicked cool” videos, a competitive advantage in life you would obtain.
However, your misdeeds have now caught up to you, and now it’s time to put an end to your failed lives.”

We turn to run the opposite way towards the back of the house as the floor beneath us opens up and fire shoots up all around us.
We begin to fall down an endless pit of fire as I let out a cuss.
Above us from the house, Amanda looks down into the hole at us as we fall into the fires of Hell.
The last thing I see is the sight of Amanda not doing so swell
as dark figures swarm over her, consuming her body.