Last Summer my friend Glacer was livin’ in the Financial District. Brisk SKE came by his crib and informed us that there was a big ol’ box o’ porn right outside his front door. I ran down and scooped it, natch! After pullin’ anything of interest outta the box (straight porns, crazier gay titles), I decided to give back to the peoples, emblazonin’ ‘Free Gay Porn!’ on the cardboard flaps with a fat-ass marker, and droppin’ it on the busy street, then watchin’ from a perch high above to see who would bite.
“Sam is short for one of his titles, SamaEl meaning “poison those of EL.” He knows his name. He calls himself Uncle Sam or Dr. Seuss (Zues) with his famous statement, “Sam I Am, I Am Sam.” This is what they teach the children; not ours however, for they will get right knowledge.”
For 400 years Nuwaubians of the West and throughout the world, were in longing of the Master teacher.One who could answer all the questions of the world clearing up the lies and falsehood of our-story. One who could provide pure facts and proof as his tool to back his claims. Now someone has raised up amongst us and his name is DR. MALACHI Z. YORK. Dr. York answers the question:
“Hello from the gutters of N.Y.C. which are filled with dog manure, vomit, stale wine, urine and blood. Hello from the sewers of N.Y.C. which swallow up these delicacies when they are washed away by the sweeper trucks. Hello from the cracks in the sidewalks of N.Y.C. and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed in the dried blood of the dead that has settled into the cracks. J.B., I’m just dropping you a line to let you know that I appreciate your interest in those recent and horrendous .44 killings. I also want to tell you that I read your column daily and I find it quite informative. Tell me Jim, what will you have for July twenty-ninth? You can forget about me if you like because I don’t care for publicity. However you must not forget Donna Lauria and you cannot let the people forget her either. She was a very, very sweet girl but Sam’s a thirsty lad and he won’t let me stop killing until he gets his fill of blood. Mr. Breslin, sir, don’t think that because you haven’t heard from me for a while that I went to sleep. No, rather, I am still here. Like a spirit roaming the night. Thirsty, hungry, seldom stopping to rest; anxious to please Sam. I love my work. Now, the void has been filled. Perhaps we shall meet face to face someday or perhaps I will be blown away by cops with smoking .38’s. Whatever, if I shall be fortunate enough to meet you I will tell you all about Sam if you like and I will introduce you to him. His name is “Sam the terrible.” Not knowing the what the future holds I shall say farewell and I will see you at the next job. Or should I say you will see my handiwork at the next job? Remember Ms. Lauria. Thank you. In their blood and from the gutter “Sam’s creation” .44 Here are some names to help you along. Forward them to the inspector for use by N.C.I.C: [sic] “The Duke of Death” “The Wicked King Wicker” “The Twenty Two Disciples of Hell” “John ‘Wheaties’ — Rapist and Suffocator of Young Girls. PS: Please inform all the detectives working the slaying to remain. P.S: [sic] JB, Please inform all the detectives working the case that I wish them the best of luck. “Keep ’em digging, drive on, think positive, get off your butts, knock on coffins, etc.” Upon my capture I promise to buy all the guys working the case a new pair of shoes if I can get up the money. Son of Sam”