I was there in Catalonia. Fought with Orwell. Didn't know it then, of course. Still have my C.N.T. Card. I'll show it to you later. Those days in Barcelona. My God. The workers were really in the saddle then...
during the revolution. Communists killed it long before Franco got there. Just look at that s**t. I've always dreamed of pulling a Guy Fawkes on the Texas Legislature. Just blow the damn thing sky high. I've got maps in my room and I'll do it some day. Texas is so full of these so-called modern-day libertarians... with all their goddamn selfish individualism. Just the opposite of real anarchism. They don't give a damn about improving the world.
But now, Charles Whitman... there was a man. Twenty-three years this summer. This town has always had it's share of crazies. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. I would have been there too. I had lunch right out front there every day that summer. But my f**king wife, God rest her soul... she had some stupid appointment that day. So during this town's finest hour, where was I?
Way the hell out on South Congress. By the time I got there, everything was blocked off. s**t. It's taken my entire life... but I can now say that I've practically given up on not only my own people... but for mankind in its entirety. I can only address myself to singular human beings now.