Kasher in the Rye: The True Tale of a White Boy from Oakland Who Became a Drug Addict, Criminal, Mental Patient, and Then Turned 16

by Moshe Kasher

Babies are ugly. At least I’ve always thought so. Little pruny creatures. Shooting down the birth canal, the final seconds of prelife bliss tick to a sudden stop and a gross little thing is bungeed into the world. Leaving behind the vaginaquarium floating bliss of yesterday, it pops into the world. Here comes Baby, covered in gel and matter, wrinkles and blood, shit and life juices. I’ve always imagined a mother looking down and in the first millisecond thinking, “Goodness, what is that?”

Anyone who thinks welfare is an awesome meal ticket for undeserving people ought to be forced to eat one actual meal from below the poverty line. Following the most intense diarrhea of their lives would be the realization that being on government assistance sucks balls.

Realizing the rest of the world to be filled with godlessness, they turned their focus from interactions with the world to an outright rejection of the world in the hopes of preserving the last fragments of holiness in the world.

In the eighties, Ronald Reagan had opened up the California state mental hospitals to save money. “Don’t worry!” he said. “We will build community centers to manage these people.” Then, after releasing them, he did no such thing.