Jim Goad

James Thaddeus Goad (born June 12, 1961) is an American author and publisher noted for the controversy surrounding his (now defunct) magazine Answer Me!. ANSWER Me! If I cared about what you thought, I'd be writing for National Geographic or something. "Statement of Intent", no. 1 (1991), p. 3 This is the real thing, brains lying on the ground, and the spectators love it. "Death in Bakersfield", no. 1, p. 37 I have assault records in three states. My hatred is diamond-hard. It can stop bullets and cause earthquakes. Hatred is the air I breathe. It permeates every cell in my body. You can't wear it out. It’ll never die. It watches you while you sleep. It confronts you around every corner. It chases you down like a running dog. My hatred is a thousand times more powerful than all your good intentions. "The Wrath of Goad", no. 2 (1992), p. 3 I’m not puking out hate because I want to change things. I’m not trying to get you to think like me. I don’t want to galvanize you and your friends into some collective blob. Get the point? I HATE you! "The Wrath of Goad", no. 2, p. 4 True psychos stand alone. The only pioneers are those who give voices to the ugliest corridors of their unconscious without fear of censure from any quarter. The acts that ordinary people commit behind closed doors are beyond the ken of any performance artist. Humans' innate weirdness is far more threatening and entertaining than anything the professional shock mavens could conjure.I boggle your conception of a world split between cognoscenti and squares. I subvert the subversive and bury the underground under six feet of its own hypocritical manure. I perform unsolicited tattooing, body-piercing, and ritual scarification upon you.Give vent to your sickest fantasies, but don't call it art. Cornhole Barbara Bush, but only if you want to. Sketch your astrological chart with your own feces, but only if it feels good. If you want to do something truly radical, kill yourself. We'll have one less reader, but the world will be a better place. "The Underground is a Lie", no. 2, p. 43 Geater love hath no man than to snuff another’s life. What more intimate act, what grander display of passion is there than murder? What bigger influence can you have on someone’s life than to end it, to erase them from the ontological chalkboard? Can you imagine a higher moral calling than to destroy someone’s dreams with one bullet, a blade’s swipe, or a pair of thumbs to the throat? "Night of a Hundred Mass-Murdering/Serial-Killing Stars", no. 2, p. 45 The Redneck Manifesto Simon & Schuster, 1997 Written history, like the missionary position, is an act executed from the top looking down. Crank is to coffee what sexual homicide is to a goodnight kiss. All the holy scriptures of all the world's major religions are nonsense. Jesus is dead. Moses is dead. Mohammed is dead. Buddha, deceased. Every one of these know-it-alls has turned to dust. That should be enough commentary on whether they were the final word on anything. Even though tax protest is portrayed as extremism, most Americans probably cheat on their tax reports. I can’t appreciate someone else’s history if I’m forced to reject and feel ashamed about mine. Racial struggles are never purely racial. If indigenous Amazonian tribes were subjects to acid rain, the liberals were emotionally devastated. But if a trailer park of white trash across town all got cancer because they lived atop a toxic dump, it was a joke. Shit Magnet: One Man's Miraculous Ability to Absorb the World's Guilt Feral House, 2002 Life grows short. Have you done everything you wanted to do, or have you played it safe? Shit can be used as fertilizer. If you don't take risks, you're already dead. The City of Angels. In all the years I've lived here, I haven't seen one fucking angel. Roaches. If you see one of them, there's fifty thousand more where that came from. Everybody says I'm a bad kid, so I guess I am. Some would like to pretend that violence is unnatural. Idiots. I never wanted an easy life. Place something good in front of me, and I'll smash it to pieces. Now I know why women have a hole between their legs. That's where they hide all their problems. Every black guy who was in my cell said he respected nazis and no one else because they presume everyone is tribal and everyone is a racist. They know where they stand with the nazis. They're not going to stab them in the back. They will stab them while looking at them, which is preferable. External links Category:People from Pennsylvania