Kenosha Kid sequence as an onomatopoeia of schizophrenia

[Terrance]

                        It's Your Game The Rules 
                        Are Your Own Win Or Lose 

                         Torture is the main attraction 
                         I don't need that kind of action 
                         You don't have to dance for me 
                         I've seen your dance before 
                         Do you throw out your gold teeth 
                         Do you see how they roll 

                         Use your knack darlin' 
                         Take one step back darlin' 
                         There ain't nothing in Chicago 
                         For a monkey woman to do 
Is that a monkey you got? Is that a monkey you've got?
When you see me comin' raise your window high, When you see me comin'
raise your window
high, When you see me passing, hang your head and cry.
There ain't nothin in that club but dead mother fuckers ain't nobody
give a fuck about. 
Use your nappy head, son. 
Use your mother's bite
and when she do she cut here toe nails. 
Ken, OSHA ain't protected yo black ass, kid
Rest in peace. 



http://www.geocities.com/pauline_lim_kim/OctPages/ChicagoMonkey.html



> Glenn Scheper wrote:
> 
> While my dentist was grinding on a tooth, he said his first
> degree was in English. I jumped up, waved my arms, mumbling,
> "Mhy mave ve bven mtalkin about enyting else?" and told him
> I'm reading GR. When I came back to get that crown cemented,
> he said he had started reading GR afresh-"What do you think
> of the 'white visitation',"-but I was still only on page 28.
> 
> Now though, I have the Kenosha Kid sequence under my belt.
> Lolling through the KK repetitions, lacking meaty meaning,
> I thought of how often I had had similar thought patterns.
> 
> My most poignant anecdote (from the standpoint of a sufferer
> of schizophrenia who was only wishing to a find a life-ring,
> a belay, a terminal referent, so he might "snap out of it")
> was when my parents had taken me to a healing church service,
> and both minister and a crowd of laity laid hands on me and
> prayed that I should have a "sound mind". In a heart-beat I
> perverted the meaning of that prayer to be, roughly, a mind
> skilled in mining hidden meanings from the way things sound.
> 
> One does it just the way the Kenosha Kid sequence is produced:
> Words having lost affective somatic valuations, one endlessly
> ratiocinates to discover potential alternate meanings using
> every available misprison: inappropriate punning, homophones,
> misparsing sentence and word boundaries, rabid selection of
> antecedants, misfunctioning parts of speech (E.g., indexical
> 'here' bound to mean one's mouth, and 'this' to mean what's
> in it.-Eschew the self-affirming non-greeting "Hi, there."),
> projection on other persons of tacitly shared secret meanings,
> and all manner of loose associations and ideas of reference.
> 
> I often had trouble with driving. Once, I began to read the
> continual "No Right Turn" signs as imputing my personal sin
> without any remedy (having broken the law so that to me the
> law commanded jouissance) which turned to existential dread.
> By the end of the evening, I didn't know where I was, but it
> was the top of a suburban hill gained by so many forced left
> turns. I asked some residents to help me, to call the police
> because I had been smoking some pot and couldn't find my way
> home. As I peered into their home window, I invented a scene
> of flagrant intrafamilial perversities resembling Guernica.
> 
> Another time, as my bipolar phase was turning down to Hell,
> I came into a little community church, abject for anathema,
> and sat in the back row. Someone offered me (stop me if you
> heard this story) a seat by them in the front row, and gave
> me one Lifesaver candy, by which eucharist I could tolerate
> being so close, ahead so many rows of pews, layers of veils,
> to hear the mysteries directly. The evangelist, a pied-piper
> skilled in drawing forth declared, "The word of God is Come!"
> and when he told the familiar tale, how that all men should
> be seaman until the sea shall free them, I unavoidably heard
> semen, and by using the semen:egg::corpse:earth resemblance,
> I felt I was indicted, and set out yet again to kill myself.
> In less than a day, I was hurtling off the freeway in inept
> suicide while trying to gouge out my right eye with my thumb.
> 
> Hey, I've got a lot more anecdotes. Anytime-just call my name.
> Like when the admiting physician asked me what does "A rolling
> stone gathers no moss" mean. Or when a Tiresian transformation
> in a vehicle soon caused me a vision of ingesting that vehicle,
> like a Klein bottle turning through itself; Or when the three
> dogs visited me while I was out all night sitting in the park;
> They communicated in mime with me, and made a marijuana sprig
> grow up at once; Or the casting out of the giant red entity...
> 
> Yours truly,
> Glenn Scheper
> scheper at antelecom.net
> http://www.antelecom.net/~scheper/
> Copyleft(!) Forward freely.
> 
> ps: dictionary.com: onomatopoeia, gk onomatopoios, coiner of names:
> The formation or use of words such as buzz or murmur that imitate
> the sounds associated with the objects or actions they refer to.