Bobby's Body

 

Wow. In this Daily Beast video, Kurt Anderson, the founder of Spy magazine talks about the time he bought cocaine from Robert Kennedy Jr., who was a student at Harvard at the time and apparently if you needed a certain drug everyone knew to go to Bobby. Anderson mentions (if you refuse to watch the video) after inquiring about the purchase of the white powder, he is summoned to Kennedy's dorm room where Kennedy pulls out a box filled with weed, but no cocaine. Kennedy, along with his brother, Joe, both leave the room and Anderson starts rifling through Bobby's notes and journals. He finds an address book which actually holds the number of thee Pope and Jackie Kennedy. After they snort their $40 cocaine, they go back to their room and get a call from Bobby. He's angry because Kurt took his cocaine straw. Anderson explains in the video even then Bobby had weird thoughts because he believed his straw had special crystals inside that were formed by his mucus and the drug. So we know this guy was nuts. Oh, wait, not nuts, rich people are called, "eccentric." He is the epitome of a spoiled, rich brat who had everything handed to him and flaunted it. He was also, even back then, cuckoo. Anderson also says he was extremely handsome. Well, I had to check that out because I find very few of the Kennedys good looking, but by gahd, he was a looker. Those blue eyes and that dimpled chin, along with the groovy hair. Yeah, what the fuck. He also spoke like a human and not a wheezing vacuum. Drugs are a big part of why Bobby has physically changed so drastically. Drugs and paranoia on top of drugs = RFK JR.. Honestly, he needs to go somewhere and get professional help. He's a candidate for one who flew over the cuckoo's nest. 

I don't know any rich people. The closest I've ever gotten was when I visited a friend from high school who lived in a lovely home with a fireplace and my feet sank into their living room carpet. They had the boat in the driveway along with the mandatory basketball hoop in the front yard and the in ground pool in the backyard. I was disappointed when we had meatloaf for dinner and felt a bit let down by the ketchup bottle on the dining room table. They lost mucky muck points for that. Except for the boat and the big house and carpet and pool, oh and a dining room table, we were almost alike. I winced as I thought about our foldable cardboard table (I can still  hear the clicks) we set up for Thanksgiving. So, I've always been in the periphery of rich people but never a part of their clique. They all had a laid back attitude which was interesting to watch as they spoke with ease and confidence. They knew they were better than us. They knew they never needed to worry about food or shelter. The rich are a different breed. Even those who spent their lives trying to help others, such as Bobby's mother, Ethel, who was only a Kennedy by marriage and was the oven for eleven little Kennedy buns.

It's sad in a way because this Royal American family did a lot of good deeds. Their prestige, power and money moved mountains. They were always aware of their affluence and influence and most of them used it for the good of humanity. Then here's this knob who is a brain addled, conspiracy theorist, former Harvard drug dealer (allegedly) who is now in charge of our health. On the positive side, we know he's nuts and don't need to listen to his stupid and very dangerous thoughts. On the negative side, people are going to die because of this twat. 

It's about time Bobby's body says, "You know, I used to be a handsome boy, with a normal voice and people tripped over themselves to touch me. I cooulda been somebody, but you turned me into a drug ingesting, leather face freak. I'm checking out, asshole." 

I loved this line from, 'On the Road,' for a long time. Now I know it's bunk. The mad ones use you. They destroy you. Of all the nuts in the Reich wing regime, this guy is by far the worst. Come on, Bobby's body, help us all out, burn out like a roman candle.