Lipton’s Journal/February 14, 1955/585: Difference between revisions

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When Bob{{LJ:Lindner}} came to India’s{{refn|Unknown.}} I knew he was suppressing his hostility toward me (chassidility) (He was like a rabbi furious that his most talented disciple was wearing his tfillen){{refn|'''Chassidility''' refers to the Hasidic Orthodox sect; the second, spelled '''tefillin''', refers to the small leather boxes (also called phylacteries) containing verses from the Torah that observant Jews strap to their arms during morning prayers.}} (And isn’t Bob’s talent to be a teacher who stimulates others past him?) and I also knew that the longer Bob suppressed his hostility toward me the more depressed and tired he would become. So I taunted him, insulted him, stuck needles in him, twisted writs and wrists (the Ritz is the Writs) provoked him until—and I really believe this—he scared us in turn when he drove the car. Granted the Lipton’s had us paranoid. Nonetheless, Bob had a shit-eating grin when we screamed that we were scared.

And after that, after that equality, after hatred met hated, we were close and warm the rest of the evening which was a fine evening—and Bob’s energy, his enormous {{LJ:lerve}} was flowing. Because Bob is a lover. When he loves he is tireless—it is the source of his energy. He becomes flat only when he hates and cannot express it. But crook loves crook. And crooks know how to express hatred. So I shit on Bob, and he ~~shits~~ on me, and then we were ~~brother~~ again, mutual leader and follower.

And after that, after that equality, after hatred met hated, we were close and warm the rest of the evening which was a fine evening—and Bob’s energy, his enormous {{LJ:lerve}} was flowing. Because Bob is a lover. When he loves he is tireless—it is the source of his energy. He becomes flat only when he hates and cannot express it. But crook loves crook. And crooks know how to express hatred. So I shit on Bob, and he shit on me, and then we were brothers again, mutual leader and follower.