a message to a certain class of people in let the dead bury the dead

I will be pushing this book into forever, if only casually. Other than Mr. Sibley and couple of others in it, you're going to have to buy the book to find out what I wrote about you, most of which is my opinion, the rest fact. Your hunches are correct: the fact that some of you are going to have to buy it to find out delights me to no end, fuck you very much. I'm not naming names here. You know who you are. My book aside, I hope you do for your own sake know who you are.

Psst! let the dead bury the dead is also available at...

You can also find the book at CreateSpace.com, which was purchased by Amazon a few years ago. I'm not 100% certain, but I think buying it there means slightly more royalties for me, hint-hint:

https://www.createspace.com/4056731

I don't do windows. You may not have fries with your tritium.

Proofing

The proof arrived today. It looks excellent. What surprised me the most was how great the cover came out. There's a teaser of it on the book's new blog @ http://letthedeadburythedead.wordpress.com. I also have a Twitter account under my name @ https://twitter.com/MJanovic. The book itself will be available at Amazon.com. I will be announcing a price and release date within a few days, no more than a week. The price of the book is not unreasonable and was determined looking at time and labor invested, printing costs, length of the text itself, and other related issues, a big book, a large trade paperback. I'll be putting it on sale, reduced, for a time, then periodically after that, either by Amazon, or me. I'm edging towards holding-off on an e-book right now, but I won't keep anyone waiting long on it. 

 I'm very interested in getting Let the Dead Bury the Dead into university collections and onto library shelves.

The book will also be available in the European Union. Regardless of what I do, the mainstream media's sure to go out of their way to avoid covering its existence. If serious journalist want to speak with me, I'm open to it. Now, if we can find any in the continental United States...

Without being too prolix: I will not speak to the conspiracy nut crowd, and yeah, you know who you are. Talk to the hand, read the book, interrogate it, and be sure not to waste my time on your way out. I shit on your opinions, show me facts, not what you want to believe, and the latter goes for everyone. I'm not concerned about them unless they're educated ones.

Will I be censored? For the most part, prior restraint isn't allowable in the United States, while libel and defamation cases are notoriously difficult to establish effectively. The outcome is rarely in favor of the plaintiff, and I'm not even taking into account how full the dockets are these days. There have already been attempts with the phony cease and desists. Someone has no respect for the First Amendment whatsoever and wants me to pull things out of the book and to take down most of what's related to the DC Madam from this blog. I will not be stopped. This book will go wide, as-is. There are no lies coming from me in this historical account. Are there inaccuracies, am I wrong about some things? It would be impossible for that not to be so, I am a man, not a god, and neither are any of us, contrary to moronic conceits making the rounds this aeon. As much as a human being can be, I was sincere, honest, and forthright in writing this book, and, it's my right to publish on it because these were my experiences. That's including my interaction with all of the information contained within it. Because I was a player in the case, neither the information and my interaction can be separated, they are one, finis. The book is as much me as it is the case. If there's something wrong with that, I must be, technically speaking, illegal. The public has a right to know, and will. No one's going to stop that, and I mean no one, none born of woman on this earth.

Most of my day was spent looking over how the proof turned out. As I wrote, it's looking very close to what I hoped for. Title page, table of contents, chapter headings, paragraphing--they all look up to a level of quality that I can live with. I believe this book is something to be proud of. With virtually no resources, I was able to accumulate some extraordinary information on Jeane's prosecution, and not merely my part of it, there were too many players to even begin mentioning. That would take another book by itself, as well as one on Montgomery Blair Sibley, who, I think, the culture should pay a little more attention to, since he's unquestionably an interesting man. Most Americans don't really know who he; is; the answer always comes from who your ancestors were. I believe his questioning of the validity of President Obama's birth certificate is wrong-headed, but his family history is our nation's. Maybe one day I'll write a book on one of the Sibleys, or Blairs. I have no intentions of writing another book on the DC Madam. I do hope that others involved in the case, the escorts most of all, would come forward with more information. So far, none of them have in any meaningful sense.

 A number of people have come forward to help me--I thank you all, and to my sources as well. All told, including additional research, editing, and revisions, the book required four years to write. In reality, there was just me, that is, Matt, and no three droogs. I had to do everything. Working in the case while it was happening was unpleasant enough, but to add on more years is prison. Real writers write because they have no choice. I had no choice. To not have written this, to not have gotten what happened off my chest in this manner, would have killed me, I found the whole thing so terrible, so tragic. Jeane didn't need to die, but now I can bury her, me, the living. 

Expect a release date within a few days. We might be pulling the trigger before the end of the month on this.

Ladies & gentlemen, if there are any left out there, be forewarned: I spare nobody in my account. Not even myself. If you are easily frightened; and if you have a tendency towards anxiousness, nervousness, and paranoia; this ride is not for you. Keep your hands and feet below the marked safety bar. Watching a national mythology come crashing down before one's eyes is never easy, I know. Enjoy the ride, when there's no more road left on dead end street, yo, top that.

Series: FORTUNE COOKIE EXEGESIS TIME

Ed.(Wood)--Because it requires little effort with more "BOOM!", I decided the time has come to unravel the annoying Mystery Cult that is the fortune cookie. Hey, fuck decorum and other Latinate wording for the dumbshow crowd. After consuming a variety of tasty Americanized Chinese dishes, after gorging, and gorging (I don't eat like this, but many fat-assed A'murkans do), heading to the neighborhood vomitorium, then going back for sixths, the pigs go and eat a fortune cookie too. So do I, not that I gorge, and I'm not obese or from Mississippi, the worst state in the nation.

And so, there comes the fortune, encased by what would never normally pass the muster as a real cookie. For some weird-assed reason, simpletons read these fortunes thinking (if you want to call it that, I don't) this shit can somehow come true, or that it's unique, sage fucking advice of some kind for the yokels who are more superstitious than an ancient Sicilian peasant woman.

Nonetheless, the cookies occasionally do actually make some kind of sense--certainly more than the people who think the advice and aphorisms (look it up) have some bearing on their cowardly way of unliving. Great, fine, whatever. I'm not even going into the "Lucky Number" bullshit, since that's yet more irrational pap for magical thinkers, crazies, and of course, the mooks. I don't normally enjoy the role of "Satan-the-accuser," but hey, this shit invites it, people invite it when they flap their gums too much. Americans have turned it into a pastime.

And so, without any adieu whatsoever, because no one's paying me for this shit except Dennis Marrero (thanks):

"Your present plans are going to succeed."

Uh, shit--how did they know? OK, I was planning to mount (heh) Schlieffen Plan attempt #3, it's true. This time we decided to burn down the Louvre, demolish the Arch de Triumphe, turn the Bastille into a whorehouse, and make a pinata our Napoleon's carcass, I admit to this, kidding aside folks, and this time the trains will run on time and be able to be recalled.

The truth will set you free, but...

...first, a few jokes!

...really, look at that view!

...it's never going to pay down that mortgage.

...first, Gloria Steinem will piss you off.

          ...but what is is what is, and yo, what it is.

...taxes are forever.

...and so are the payments.

...damn, yo, do I have a fucking headache.

...I have problems forming complete senten