Dump/Book Burn

This is a new blog, and I really feel the need to dump a whole bunch of shit in it, so it’s not so baby-faced anymore. Maybe some crazy bullshit I did or something, some recaps of how stupid I really am, maybe to explain your deep inner urges to come to my site.I was talking to my buddy Roughty the other day, and he said I need a focus with this stupid blog. I told him I know, and he said, “Write about the Book Burn.” So I will.

The Book Burn occurred on the day President George W. Bush was re-elected as the head of the Executive Branch of our fine government. I was a senior in college, and it was November if I recall. I was going through a few personal issues, including massive drug abuse, excessive alcoholism, starvation, mental depravity, and a number of other very serious mental and physical problems, any one of which would have sent me immediately to an institution of some sort, if I would have walked through any psychiatrist’s door. Seriously.

So there I was, fucking twacked out of my head, drunk as shit, pissed off about Bush, and in a general state of disrepair and malaise. I got home from the bar at about 2:30 AM…the bars closed at 2, and we walked home (no DUI tonight, bitches). So me and Roughty, who was my roommate at the time, came home and started being a little rowdy, kicking our wall to wake up our neighbor Marty, drinking beer, turning up the music real loud, and opening the front door of our apartment. It was pretty cold too.

So I’m sitting there, and I look down and see a book on the ground, I think it was called Regeneration. It was about a WWI soldier who comes back to England and tries to keep dealing with his bullshit existence after watching thousands of his buddies and enemies get torn to shreds by these new inventions called “machine guns”, choking on mustard gas, and eating rat shit. He was struggling, and I guess I did identify with the WWI soldier mentality, being the starving, drugged out wasted fucker that I was in those days. I had to write a report on the shit that was due immediately the next day, and I hadn’t even started. I picked up that stupid book and threw it as hard as I could against the wall, and was immediately rewarded by feelings of power, control and glee at the fact that I could fundamentally and ideologically damage this book.

I picked up the broken-back book and looked at Roughty…”Let’s burn this motherfucker.”

Roughty was into it, so we gathered tons of material. Old school books, flyers from the mail, new school books, random notebooks, all of our electric and phone bills….we got everything that would burn that we really didn’t need, put it in the shitty grill out in front of our house, and lit it up. It started small, but eventually we had a fire going that was at least chest high, with some flames going as high as our head. It got out of control real quick, so what did we do? We started screaming into the night, burning more books and waking up neighbors.

“WE’RE FUCKING NAZIS BABY!!!!!!!!” I thought that was funny because we just elected Bush again, and I was feeling revolutionary, but looking back, I think even anti-Bush people would not be cool with me yelling that, but it was great at the time.

To make a long story short, my next door neighbor Marty woke up because he thought his house was on fire. His window was open, and all the smoke was going directly into his bedroom. He came down screaming at us real bad. Then our neighbor across the street, Raf, came out. He was a Moroccan Muslim immigrant who had abused a U.S. and global scholastic program (Rhodes Scholarship) to infiltrate our country, impregnate a citizen, and get married…he came out and I screamed at him…


The culmination of the night was when our other neighbor Jeremy came outside (at this point, its 3 AM, we have a huge fire going about 3 feet from my front door, we are screaming at everyone, drugs in the house, and so on)…so Jeremy came outside and started getting into it. I go inside, and when I came back, Jeremy and Roughty are both pissing into this raging fire, hooting and hollering with beers above their head. I’m not sure how they pissed simultaneously into the fire without looking at each other’s junk, but we’ll just let that one slide. After they were done pissing, we put out the fire, and I went upstairs to my room and crashed.

As a side, my dad came to visit me on Thursday that week (elections were Tuesday), and there was a HUGE black pit/stain/pile of wet crumbles right in front of my house, and my dad said, “What the hell happened here.”

“We had a cookout, and we just burned it all the way down.”

He grunted, but didn’t seem to mind that my living room was a little less cluttered with books, junk mail and unpaid electric bills.


2 Responses to “Dump/Book Burn”

  1. 1 suityourself March 6, 2007 at 11:31 pm

    wow. i have not heard that story for more than a year now, and i am amazed to say that, while i no longer abuse drugs, (abuse is, after all, a relative term), that story is just as funny as the day i heard it — or, should i say, smelled it! that pile of burned up books and piss mixed with what was probably far too much lighter fluid really smelled powerfully. i think that it may interest all you faithful readers (me and the wageslave… and probably the aforementioned “T”) to consider the fact that, during the two years and change that we all called the described neighborhood home, (though only two technically lived there), no cops ever came to the house. hear me clearly — never once did an officer of the law set foot on the premises. we burned books (while i wasn’t there that night, i don’t feel bad including myself); we played electric guitar and drums during ridiculous hours innumerable times; we engaged in some micro-trafficking(sp?) more often than i’d like to admit; we screamed and hollered and carried on enough to make up for the rest of the studyfreaks at the college where we studied.

    on that note, it’s important to say that, while some may accuse the wageslave, me and plenty of our intimate pals of wasting our time at college, this accusation is without merit. here we are, less than two years removed from the scene, and wageslave lives in a respected, (if polluted), community and i work for a university. besides these material successes, it should be noted that, while college is over and done, we continue to look back on these times with amusement and meditative reflection (at best). i think, when it’s all said and done, this is the most valuable part of college, and i can say without a doubt that, had i earned a 4.0 and a quadruple major, i’d never have had such experiences. last note about this, the paper that the wageslave had to submit the day after the burning was submitted… with time to spare… and he got an “A.” don’t confuse his humility for ineptitude.

    now, a different note about my reading. the goodman ambrose was talking to me about the good old westward expansion in which the u.s. engaged during much of the 18th and 19th centuries. he mentioned that, while spain, france and britain all had legitimate (to one degree or another) claims to this western part of the continent, the u.s. had three major advantages. the first two are stupid, and i’ll gloss over them: first, we had tj as our leader. oh, woo hoo, we should take a knee and blow him if he’s that cool. i think ke was an ass. second, we lived here, so we could get to the land easier. news-flash, those small-ass mountains in the western part of va, georgia, penn, carolinas weren’t so small before the creation of good roads and the advent of the motorcar, so this barrier was just about as significant as the ocean. the third reason is the most interesting, if you ask me. ambrose noted that the american consciousness was such that, while we had less education and less money than the euros who also wanted to western part of the country, we had a drive that they did not. in a sense, americans of the day would not take “no” for an answer. this is bad-ass when you think of it. our forefathers were some stubborn old sons of bitches and they weren’t going to take shit from anybody. as our leaders gained power and our country became more of an institution and less of a “crap-shoot,” this american quality died. nowadays, we’re acculturated to believe what we’re told and do what the powerful people tell us to do — whether or best judgement tells us to act in this way or not. we’re trained to abide within the system’s limits — questioning these limits is deemed silly.

    i want to say that this is bullshit. while we never articulated it as such, we knew there was a problem. that’s why we smoked blunts in the ‘boos instead of going to class; that’s why books were burned up and pissed on; that’s why advice went unheeded… and that’s why those of us who said “fuck it” are still so much better off than the rest of the mindless people still trying to make it is the new america by keeping with convention.

    so, when you see the bum on your street corner asking you for a dollar, kick the shit out of him in a more loving way than you normally would. this man is probably a visionary… or else a wine-o… probably both.

  2. 2 Roughty McRoughton March 7, 2007 at 6:24 pm

    madness. it still boggles my mind to this day how we escaped unscathed by Johnny Law that night. it is a miracle. you know all to well my uncanny ability to get arrested at the drop of a hat. if i were a super-hero (although i may be, i dont need you mouth-breathers to know my mild-mannered secret identity) that would definately be my super power. that and excessive savagery.

    update: to those reading: yes Roughty McRoughton is a real name, it is my name. because all our mutual friends called me that ad nauseum, i had a girlfriend who met me under those pretenses. it took her almost 3 weeks before she found out i had a different name on my birth certificate. needless to say, the name has stuck for a long time.

    drug update: dear wageslave, i am concerned about your escalating drug use, and the proper authorities have been notified.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: