Public Letter to Kresten X. Taylor:

I know you too well. I expected a big slab of dried bull shit and I got it. Thankfully I have too much on my mind to read it, and your writing bores me any way. So let’s just skim the surface, for I know that’s all that you would do at any rate, and while you as usual are settling for the lowest possible path I shall not feel inclined to work too hard to compensate. For once.

A thief in fact seldom asks for any thing. Pickpockets go unseen, robbers break and enter, etc. You praised the concept of a con artist, and that’s what you are. Don’t think you can fool me. As Camus said: charm is being able to get what you want without asking. I don’t give a fuck about how you got my belongings. You gave away my sweater to Alex Riccio. I literally saw this fucking kid wearing my sweater at a McDonald’s one night.

IMAGINE that, John Lennon.

I glimpsed [the word] “Marxism” here so as usual I guess you’re making a “statement”. Well here’s a statement for you, wise-guy: it makes more sense than any thing that I would have wound up a Marxist in your midst for there were never any boundaries with you. All of the PROBLEMS of Marxism that surround parasitism I’ve experienced with you. All the boundary dissolution and violation was there as well. And I only maintained my position as an honest Marxist by expecting nothing more than what I need[ed] and giving to the greatest extent.

I never held out on you. So you wound up with my belongings in your possession. But they were never yours to give, sell, lose, damage, or keep. Under every ethos we have discussed up until this point (and you’ve exhausted your time for new arguments, which was limited by my rather SAINTLY patience) you have failed. Under Marxism I deserve them because I need them, and I should feel at liberty to enter your place of residence and simply take them. Under capitalism they are mine, you have them, and that means that you have to give them back. I can’t break into your home, I’m not going to stalk you, and your “friends” have not been very good interventionists.

So I’m giving you an ultimatum. It shall be generous.

I want to see my old Casio in working condition on my doorstep by the end of the year. That is EXCEPTIONALLY generous. Don’t push it.

I don’t remember how they wound up there. But you agreed to borrow them. So they are your responsibility. Beyond that let me remind you that I was working at one point in your best interest and then in the interest of Alanna, whom you had PURPORTED (albeit falsely) to love.

Don’t bullshit me Taylor. You don’t like it. I don’t like it. Be a man for once. Pull through.

And I’ll be enquiring with Alanna about the Tarot cards. And I’d stay away from Anthony were I you. I’m not sure how you two would CLICK nowadays.

DM.A.A.

P.S. You don't come off as a convincing stand-in conscience. I have too much self-value to be fooled by that. And I KNOW that you don't have the kind of self-respect to say the same of me. It only PAINS me that I must remain your stand-in conscience. I wish you'd grow up and face the facts for once. Dm.