In the Gospel According to the Cousins, a gospel I started in my youth on Vico’s flourishing farm at the foot of Mt Vesuvius, I had many many cousins in Italy who were able to perform supernatural feats such as Marco da Roma who grew to impossible heights at impossible odds — over piping hot bread, my father interrogated the very tall and handsome Marco, who was egging him on, as to HOW his doctor did it. His mother brought him to his physician begging that he help him become tall. He gave him supplements, apparently, that resulted in him growing to 6 feet tall, unlike any of his family members. We used to have photo shoots in his apartment as Marco believed he was very pretty… but that’s Rome. Me, an important Italian, I had cousins from South to North — Torino to Napoli, so I represent a broad area of Italy. I was watching MTV Europe with the Romans — and in Naples, I gathered the boys, three boys, around my age, and asked them kindly take a seat in three chairs I had stationed on the terrace. I interviewed them about their music classifications: “what do you listen to?” These slouching boys, well, the eldest said, “rock,” very clearly. As I suspected, Diane Sawyer my inspiration. “Can you give me an example of the rock that you listen to…?” And he put up five fingers. “Five,” as in the boy band. “This is not rock,” I said. “What is it?”
“Pop with Rnb influences…” hmmmm, rock?
And so it begins, I’m retiring my cathartic outpour but I sort of needed to get out the last decade as it was fucking terrible. I ended up in unreality, truly, and if you can bend reality, whatever, bother someone else with it. I have to see a physician, to make sure my intestines are okay, basically, as I went through a lot sensationally at the end of all that, and that’s what my physician suggested, so I’m going to do it. Then, we’ll talk about whether or not it was, some of it was, related to the psychedelics. When I’m sick or tired now, I can experience just a mental component that I don’t need, you see. However, for the most part, I’m in the clear — so I hope that will continue to take care of itself. I do not know if I am THE MOST PSYCHIC person in the universe, but I’ve retired, if you will, pushing TINY carts through a Naples supermarket. One for hobbits. We’re AWARE that hobbits exist. And as for my parents, I’ll keep talking to this sexual trauma specialist, and I’ll find a way to contribute something to the world based on what I learned, if it hasn’t been done already.
But now, I’m going to move back to Christmas in Naples is a Sport — I don’t know what this is, but I have so much material, that I might as well keep sharing it. And that time concerns me coming back to Italy, to see my cousins, and I’m struggling to understand how I ended up in so many families — they, too, are confused. And we both couldn’t make a BASIC connection, as I told them WHY on the very first day of Christmas. Too much disbelief. Too many people erasing what I’m saying. And I had to make some essential step and tell people to shut the fuck up — that’s what Angela said. “You must learn how to say THIS PHRASE TO PEOPLE—VAI FANCULO.” And she said it, in an impossibly beautiful location— driving up the cliffs of Vico Equense, a natural reserve, in blossom for it was summer, but WINTER, okay? Christmas came later — is ABOUT summer, there is a MYTHIC connection between them, so “Endless Summer Nights” is a Christmas classic. It is, the SAX is our Christmas instrument. Get ready for a Christmas you want, the Christmas of your dreams, where we’re partying all night, you see, we’re partying THROUGH, it’s ancient. We party THROUGH the end, there are even academic studies about it, you see? It’s a way to keep it together, and look, Naples is ANGLO SAXON in its foundation, literally speaking, not Mycenean. No, this true. So I just covered a study about these crazy Brits partying like mad as they were transitioning between the Bronze and Iron Ages, Naples REMEMBERS it, because it kept them sane, together, and no one gives a shit about the future.
I tried to tell my Neapolitan cousins — “people in America make resolutions at this time…” What? “The people in America are sad about the end of the year…” as my Italian was so limited, I sounded special and stupid. “Why?” WHY, why are they sad? They didn’t get it, as the END in Naples is just a CHANCE to reach immortality. “Oh, next year I want to do this…” better myself. It was rejected. MY WAY by Frank Sinatra is a Christmas institution, you understand, so I DID IT MY WAY— that’s the final cuing the canons of BRAVO— that can shake the canyons truly — with Mary Poppins women running to stations in their houses to make sure nothing breaks. That’s it, no worries. If My Way starts playing — that’s the cue.
I’m excited to turn a page. I spent a month and a half outpouring on a blog, because I don’t think I needed a therapist, or psychologist, I need to — move on. The detour down Trauma Road didnt help me much, thanks. So it is time to rise again, for my family believed that I am Dante, for real, I was Dante and I went through the USA Family Inferno, this is what they understood, with a shrug between candlebras on the Feast of Santa Lucia. ‘Round then. I didn’t make sense, si, but this was clear. And I started laughing, and they were insulted — are you LAUGHING AT DANTE? I was laughing at being called Dante, but I couldn’t get there because they got increasingly more aggressive. “DANTE’S NAME,” a tap on the table, a point being made, “IS ON EVERY PIAZZA.” So he, too, went through hell, and now he’s immortal, you see? EVERY PIAZZA. I went through the USA Family Inferno AS a Neapolitan. It was clear to them that I was not American, I was born in the United States of America as a Neapolitan to go through this destiny… why they didn’t know. That, they could not know. I will tell you of this…and more.
I think for this one, I wanted to do droplets, like Maggie Nelson with some longer scenes in there, just because it’s so large and epic, that it might be fun and Christmasy to approach it like that. Again, I would really suggest thinking about the HOW beforehand. So I’ll be sharing these hilarious scenes. Maybe I should just keep it very dialogue heavy, I don’t know, I have to read around, as you might as well tackle the comparative titles doc first, since you’re going to have to do that regardless, you know? I’ll spend some time sharing what I have, now that I’m over my angry period. Very very angry. Angry to feel so vulnerable. That I was vulnerable to just shit that didn’t apply to me, have to apply to me, and I just might call myself MARIE or Marguerite to avoid any stupid confusion about my name. Enough, enough. “Marguerite.” I couldn’t be whiter, it’s hilarious. Anyway, I was insulted left and right this past decade, really. Didn’t need help, thumbs up.