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no credit is due to me for discovering either the existence of classes in modern society or the struggle between them. what I did that was new was to demonstrate:
1. that the existence of classes is only bound up with particular historical phases in the development of production
2. that the class struggle necessarily leads to the dictatorship of the proletariat
3. that this dictatorship itself only constitutes the transition to the abolition of all classes and to a classless society.
socioeconomic subscriptions aside, understand you are dealing with a man who knocked off "rising up and rising down" on the roller coaster at coney island, penetrating the abstruse vollmannian arcana with ease, despite enough violent lurching to shake loose my silver fillings. understand also that I am among the select few who spotted instantly in dali's "hallucinogenic toreador" that precise interplay of nuance and shading that matisse could have achieved had he foresaken the delicate ambiguity of pastels and worked with lysergic acid diethylamide. also, laddies, as one whose spate of insights first placed pina bausch in proper perspective for the many confused playgoers who milled sluggishly in the lobby during intermission, miffed at ponying up scalper's money for argle-bargle bereft of one hiphop joint or a single spangled music video quality bimbo, I would have to say my rapport with the brooklyn academy of music is pretty solid. add to this the fact that I still occasionally sit in with my old rap group, after hours in a harlem basement, where we blow some late weather and news. real soul stuff. finally, to lock up my case tight, note that mine is a stock visage at nyc happenings and underground movie premieres, and that I am a frequent contributor to men's fitness, a cerebral monthly dedicated to advanced concepts in bodybuilding and freshwater fishing. if these are not credentials enough to tag me jamaal sensitive, then bru, I give up.