Читать книгу Sunshine on an Open Tomb - Tim Kinsella - Страница 21

The blue blood Good Men all established their legacies by running drugs and slave-trading and strategically marrying.

But Good Men can never be Bloodline.

Every Good Man a Manchurian Candidate, none of them able to comprehend the scale of the actual project.

The Bloodline built the pyramids.

We are in The Code of Hammurabi.

We count Charlemagne and the leaders of The Holy Roman Empire amongst our own.

I’m cousins with 34 Prezs.

We are related at least distantly to every European monarch on and off the throne, kin to every member of The British Royal family.

My 13th cousin once removed is the heir to the throne.

In The 12th Century, our guy King Henry I, son of William The Conqueror, along with other lesser-known relations, was formative in the founding and unification of The UK.

And The Jesuits charged with the failed “Gunpowder Plot” to blow up The British Parliament in 1605: they would’ve been carving our Christmas suckling with us too.

And Churchill.

We were The Dutch East India Trading Company colonizing South Africa.

And William The Orange, creator of The Bank of England, famous for first charting out the global banking industry, of course.

Neanderthals went extinct cuz their eyes were bigger than human eyes.

They expended all that brain-energy struggling to see in the dark while we Homo Sapiens were figuring out how to skin animals and make advantageous connections.

You know who was selling those coats, and calling in favors for access to fire, sculpting systems and rituals for the evolutionary benefit and psychological survival of the group?

You ever notice The Family’s squinty, beady little eyes?

Tuck-pointers conceal the seams.

But nothing touches The Bloodline.

The Family often retold a favourite romantic fairy tale of a low-ranking SS officer saving the family of a young Jewish girl he wanted to impress.

The Bloodline required genealogical quarterings all the way back to 64 great-great-great grandparents, 300 years.

Everyone always checking out those Medici sisters and The Bonaparte girls.

Ha! I should line up to compete for one of them?

Pops loved to play matchmaker: the espionage of romance, the power to steer instinct, the obsession with purity.

Junior habitually lied about being an Air Force officer to impress women.

Master of the backwards compliment, he’d say: I don’t like natural beauties. I’ve always preferred women like you.

My Mother George Washington forced Junior to call off his first engagement cuz the girl had a Jewish stepfather.

The girl blabbed to everyone re: Junior’s vivid insecurities that he’d never amount to anything thanks to The Family’s pampering.

Junior got her pregnant in ’71, but they didn’t see the term thru.

And after the surgery, she never saw Junior again, not once.