Is writing a pleasure? Sometimes, just like davening, but “pleasure” is not the primary word I’d use to describe my process. Rather, I’d say that writing is my thing. The Mafia have their thing. “Cosa Nostra” means “Our Thing.” I have my thing, my swagger, my reason for being.
I walk around the world and I twirl my fingers and I smile about what I can do with a keyboard. Kinda like Rudolf Schenker with a guitar.
Is my writing a weapon or a coping mechanism? Do I want to shake people up? Do I want to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable?
I’m not black and I don’t have a 12-foot spear. White men don’t call me sir. I can’t run 40 miles at a go and I’ll never be a Zulu prince. But on the internet, nobody has to know that. I can climb Mount Kilimanjaro and sing Jerusalem:
And did those feet in ancient time.
Walk upon England’s mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On England’s pleasant pastures seen!
And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
Sometimes I think that I’m a divine being sent to earth to save humanity from sin and at other times I think I’m a very naughty boy.
I want to live my life for God but I have nothing unique to say from that holy place. By contrast, my best work comes from the Sitra Achra.