Asshole

whoever they were they had followed up behind him far too close and when he stoppeddead in his tracks  the passage too arresting  they hit him with their car and he flopped heavily willfully on top their hood 

he heard them creeping behind himhe could almost hear their breathing their giggle as they thought theyd sneakup on himblow their hornfrighten him  but they had no idea how many drivers thought they could frighten him  not understanding that reading didnt make him deaf or negate his other senses 

it was too bad he couldnt negate assholes

You, motherfucker the driver said as he got out of his car looking at his dented hood  you’re gonna pay for damages.

You hit me

. . .

And if yadont get yer ass back in yer car right now Im gonna hit you and aint no bodyshop gonna be able to correct the damages Ill inflict  Youll need a really good plastic surgeon

. . .

Count your blessings asshole

ordinarily he wouldnt have let this Bozo get under his skinthereve been many more assholes than people might think hed been clipped by car mirrorsdrivers trying to unnerve him by passing real real close 

                                                                           too bad he didnt carry a brick
in the canvas bookbag slung over his shoulder the weight inside it was other books he wouldnt throw a book at a car he had too much respect for books but mebbe he would start carrying a brick he had several left over from the mulch pit he fashioned in his backyard  Mebbe

the asshole smart got back in his car after despondently eyeing the depressionthe groove in his hood  then with some reluctance he backed up his vehicle because he wasnt stepping out of the road  

Bozo drove around him

                        he may have contemplated vehicular manslaughter but he didnt have the balls had he the balls they would have had a fist fight but maybe showing up late for work with his face busted and bleeding wasnt the best idea

he may also have thought this wasnt the hill to die on

                                                        while on the other hand he was willing to die on every gawddamn hill he found if for nothing more than it affording him a better overlook of his surroundings

what heeled himhad brought him to a stop was a passage from Galeanos Open Veins of Latin America 

he just started reading it  

page twentythree  ten pages in

                                 “The Crown was mortgaged. It owed all of the silver payments (from Potosi, now Bolivia), before they arrived, to the German, Genoese, Flemish, and Spanish bankers. The same fate befell most of the duty collected in Spain itself: in 1543, 65 percent of all royal revenues went to paying annuities on debts. Only in a minimal way did Latin American silver enter the Spanish economy; although formally registered in Seville, it ended in the hands of the Fuggers, the powerful bankers who had advanced to the Pope the funds needed to finish St. Peter’s, and of other big moneylenders of the period, such as the Welters, the Shetzes, and the Grimaldis. The silver also went to paying for the export of non-Spanish merchandise to the New World. 

"The rich empire had a poor metropolis, although the illusions of prosperity blew increasingly large bubbles into the air. The Crown kept opening new war fronts, while on Spanish soil the aristocracy devoted itself to extravagance, the priests and warriors, nobles and beggars, multiplied as dizzily as living costs and interest rates. Industry died with the birth of great sterile latifundia, and Spain’s sick economy could not stand up to the impact of rising food and merchandise that was the inevitable result of colonial (military) expansion. The big rise in public expenditures and choking pressure of the overseas possessions’ consumer needs accelerated trade deficits and set off galloping inflations.”

Hmm

       sounded like todays pious Republicans who enabled Drumpfs tax cuts for Corporate America and the wealthiest Americans who without sleightofhand or brusque announcement had no intentions of any money escaping their grasp or trickle down through their watertight fists

and for his keen amazement he got tagged in the ass clown was probably shooting a video with his cellfone to post later

the driver was smart not to challenge him

his ire was compounded

                        and compounded he had eight arms eight fists and lusted for the wet of hot blood even if it was his own his toes overhung a dark precipice 

sometimes a madness in him tried to thumb an anonymous ride 

1018,  Twosday,  30  10. 18

Eszter Balint Un Poison Violent, C'est Ca L'Amour  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0hvpQvjNec