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The True Adventures of The Black Fart, A Memoir
by The Black Fart as told to Susan Katz



The Making of The Black Fart
Hudson County had a large German population
in the late 1930's.

When The Black Fart was in first grade, Albert Lindstrom
kept picking on him.  Kept challenging him to fight.
Every day he was addressed as "You Jew bastard,"
and every day, The Black Fart avoided fighting.

One day, The Black Fart agreed to fight Albert;
Not after school, but during lunchtime.
They were both about the same size.
They met around the corner from the school in a lot.

The children gathered around for their lunchtime
entertainment, bringing their sandwiches.
The Black Fart had no idea why he agreed to fight Albert.
The Black Fart had no idea what a Jew bastard was.

Albert gave The Black Fart a slap, then another in his face.
Albert kept his arms hanging down at his sides.
The Black Fart had no idea what to do, but Albert's face
was completely open and unguarded.

The Black Fart swung as hard as he could into Albert's face.
Suddenly, all he could see was red.
He kept hitting Albert in the face, broke his nose,
got him down and he kept hitting and hitting and it felt good.

The Black Fart's parents were called to school.
His father (unhappily) had to apologize to Albert's father.
They didn't know what to do with The Black Fart, but his marks were excellent -
so the principal skipped him to the second grade.

Luis Camaño
 
Curtis House was Colonel Curtis' House
for athletes,
Garner House was Colonel Garner's House
for scholars
Barracks North, East, West and South
for the rest of the cadets.

One of The Black Fart's roommates in Curtis House
at Riverside was Luis Camaño,
from Santo Domingo, a boxing champion.

Another cadet in the West Barracks,
was Trujillo's son and he was friends
with Camaño, whose father was
Trujillo's Chief of Staff.*

Camaño was a staff sargeant
Trujillo's son was a corporal
(The Black Fart was a Captain
who couldn't assemble or
reassemble his weapon)

One Christmas vacation
when Trujillo and Camaño
went back home to Santo Domingo,
Trujillo took Camaño to
a whore house.

Not until they returned to
Riverside Military Academy,
Gainesville, Georgia,
(accredited ROTC school)
did Camaño find out he
had the clap.

There was an argument.
Luckily for Camaño, his fists
were not used to pummel Trujillo,
but everyone heard


De son of de President
eez a son-of-a-beech!
And I am going to keel heem!

This became Camaño's mantra.


*General Trujillo was the brutal dictator of Santo Domingo for over 30 years until his death.




Mark Fein*
  his bookie and his nookie


The Black Fart spent his first six months at Riverside
in the West Barracks.
One of his roommates was Mark Fein.
Mark was a 'good guy' - nice, quiet.
His father, Irving, Chairman of
Continental Can, was nice too.

The Black Fart was moved into Curtis House,
and didn't see much of Mark after that.

In 1963, Mark Fein was arrested
for second degree murder.
He killed his bookie, after losing by betting
on the Yanks instead of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

Mark's mistress, and her friend, carried out the trunk
with Rubin's body and dumped it into the Harlem River,
while Mark went to dinner with his wife and children
at Quo Vadis.

Mark was released from Sing-Sing after 20 years,
with time off for good behavior.
Mark was a 'good guy' - nice, quiet.

*True story published every day in the NY papers.



The Saga of The Black Fart

One day in the boys' lavatory in Public School #6
(West New York, New Jersey),
many long years ago, there appeared
upon the bathroom walls
sexually explicit, vulgar expressions and words.

As time went by, these writings took up every inch
of space on the boys' bathroom walls at P.S. 6.

Every one of them was signed: The Black Fart -
E.g. "Mrs. Diamond (the principal) sucks cock."
When almost all of the four walls were taken up with the like,
someone tried to horn in and signed himself: The Green Scumbag.

This annoyed The Black Fart very much.
But nothing upset the The Black Fart as much as when the janitor washed all the walls and erased everything.

Next day, on the walls of the boys' lavatory of P.S. 6 in West New York, NJ,
in black, nearly ineradicable crayon
in flowing, giant letters, it said:
"Fuck the Janitor who erases my masterpieces,"
and it was signed: The Black Fart.

The day after that, while sixth-grader Ron was sitting in his classroom doing his arithmetic,
a call came in for him to go see the janitor.

When Ron arrived at the custodian's office,
Mr. Michaels was very upset and said,
"You are The Black Fart."
And Ron replied, "I am not The Black Fart."
He took Ron to the principal's office and Ron was expelled for 4 weeks.

Sadly, Ron's parents went to their graves believing Ron was The Black Fart.

So some day, if you wake up in the morning, go to your bathroom,
and see disgusting things written on the walls (signed by The Black Fart),
it wasn't Ron.


I.

Faculty Officer Lieutenant Berry

Riverside had civilian teachers
  as well as military ones.
Civilians were given ranks
  (dependent upon their years at the academy).

Lieutenant Bob Berry was about 25, 6'7"
  and before teaching, he played center
  at Davidson College in NC.

He was addressed either as Lieutenant Berry, Sir
  (to his face)
Or (behind his back) as:
That tall, skinny, piece-of-shit.

In the off-season, The Black Fart would hang around the gym
  playing half-court basketball.
Lieutenant Berry would play half-court with the cadets.

Berry was much taller and bigger than the cadets,
  so The Black Fart used his special New Jersey technique of play:
  knee-to-the-groin, elbow-to-the-face.

II.

General Sandy Beaver

General Sandy Beaver was a General US Army, retired.

General Sandy Beaver was in his seventies.
He was six-foot six-inches tall, steel-gray hair,
full military bearing, striking looks with a
large beak nose and sunburnt skin.

General Sandy Beaver owned Riverside.

General Sandy Beaver also owned the winter home
  for Riverside in Hollywood, FL.

General Sandy Beaver spoke to the cadets
  as if in the next moment they were going into battle.

General Sandy Beaver's son was Commandant.

General Sandy Beaver was God.

General Sandy Beaver lived past one-hundred years.

General Sandy Beaver was Native American.


The Black Fart, All American Boy, Part I

The Black Fart was in Junior High School --
The Black Fart had the flu, and
The Black Fart's mother kept him home from school.

On the way back to school next day, The Black Fart
  noticed (bold ten foot letters) painted in the street:
"Fuck Mr. Riley!"

Mr. Riley was the principal of Robert Fulton JHS.
The Black Fart was immediately summoned to Mr. Riley's office.
Mr. Riley said, "Black Fart, did you see what was written in paint in the gutter?

"You are suspended for two weeks!  Go home!"
The following day, The Black Fart's mother came to school & told Mr. Riley:
"My little Black Fart was home sick and could not possibly have been guilty."

Mr. Riley had suspended five students.
The Black Fart became un-suspended.
Ray Cassella, who had been suspended, said to The Black Fart:

"Schmuck!  You should have stayed suspended! 
We're having a ball,
  now you have to go to school every day!"

Ray Cassella was drafted right out of
  eighth grade 3 weeks later,
  and he died in Korea on 'Pork Chop Hill.'


The Black Fart, All American Boy, Part II

Abe Plotkin, President of Lemar Shoes went to Europe
& had no one to watch his pet parrot.
So, The Black Fart's father, Irving, who worked for Abe,
   kept Abe's parrot in their kitchen until Abe would be returning home.
& The Black Fart would sit in the kitchen talking to the parrot,
& The Black Fart kept repeating: "Fuck Abe Plotkin,"
  until he got the response he wanted.

2 weeks later, Abe Plotkin returned from his vacation
& had a dinner party.
& during this dinner party, right in the middle of the main course --
  the parrot says, "Fuck Abe Plotkin."

Abe went after Irving who didn't know what he was talking about.
& Abe left screaming, "If you ever do that again, you'll be without a job!"



Edgar Bronfman (Sr.)

Samuel Bronfman was Canadian;
  he was not allowed into the United States;
  he was a bootlegger.

When Seagrams had 34 companies,
  Samuel sent his son Edgar to New York
  to learn the family business.

With offices then in the Chrysler Building,
  Edgar started
  in the mailroom.
 
Edgar was good-looking.
Edgar just graduated college.
Edgar had a big cock.
Edgar was filthy rich.
Edgar was Canadian.

The boys in the mailroom felt sorry for Edgar;
  no girl would go out with him
  because he was Canadian.

'The boys' decided to 'fix' Edgar up.
  The Black Fart knew a ballet dancer
  named Doris.

Doris said she would go out with Edgar
  on Saturday night,
  only if The Black Fart took her out on Friday night.

The Black Fart entered into this agreement.

The United Nations had recently opened
  and they snuck inside the grounds,
  making-out in the park.

Two flashlights shone down on them.
  The cops took them to the security area of the U.N.
  They promised not to go to the park again.

After Doris went out with Edgar,
  The Black Fart wanted to know if she liked him.
  Doris did not.

Edgar, however, liked Doris.
Edgar was good-looking.
Edgar just graduated college.
Edgar had a big cock.
Edgar was filthy rich.
Edgar was Canadian.

Edgar Bronfman, Sr. is President of the World Jewish Congress.
Edgar Bronfman, Sr. is the fourth richest man in North America.


Ronald Goldfarb
 
"Ronald Goldfarb was a short, fat piece of shit from the jewish side of North Bergen."
~The Black Fart

Goldfarb was always the shortest, fattest, and smartest person in his class.
Every day he got terrific marks and every day The Black Fart
  and his friends stole his books from him.
They stole his money. 
They made sure he never went home from school without crying.
They pulled his pants down in front of the girls - all the time.

Ronald Goldfarb graduated from Syracuse and from Yale,
He became a lawyer trying court martials for the US Air Force,
He became a prosecutor in the justice department
  for Robert Kennedy's racketeering and organized crime section.
He has written numerous books on prisons, the corrections system,
  and the criminal mind.
He is 72 years old, slim, smart and lives with his architect wife in Alexandria, VA.

Ronald Goldfarb devoted his entire life to getting even.


The Last of the Daltons

"Remember when we first met, coming from Portland, Ron?"

"We were going to Portland, Charlie."

"No, we were coming from Portland."

"We were going to Portland, Charlie.  Dick Sullivan was on the plane with us.
And I certainly knew you when we got off.  I told him,
'Let's get rid of this sorry son-of-a-bitch cocksucker.'"

"Dick was a hard drinking Irishman."

"Dick was French, Charlie.  Everyone thought he was Irish,
his name, he looked Irish,
and I never met anyone who could drink like him,
but his family changed the name or something at Ellis Island."

"You're full of shit."

"No.  He used to tell people about that.  He told you ‘cause you're Irish and you kept introducing him to your family that way.  He told you, Charlie.  He told your father, when he finished off a bottle and 1/2 of his scotch, then decided he needed to take a nap.

"I remember meeting you for the first time, Ronnie.  We were coming from Portland."

"We were going to Portland, Charlie.  Jeez you're getting senile.  Hey, Susan!
Am I getting senile like Joe?"

"Wha'd she say?"

"Yes."


Ron reminisces,
"We were on the plane going for a two week stay in Portland.  Meetings.
Dick had gained some weight and told me he was gonna take off 20 pounds
in 2 weeks.  And I asked him,
how he was gonna do that and he says, a Martini diet.  Nothing but
Martinis.
So I hafta room with him, and for 2 weeks he's drinkin' martinis.
I'd order breakfast: eggs, bacon, juice, toast, coffee, company is paying for everything,
and he'd order 5 martinis.
Morning, noon and night.  Martinis.

Next to Dick Sullivan, the greatest drinker I ever met was Jack Dalton.
The last of the Daltons.  When he walked the streets of St. Joseph, he was a God.. 
He died young.  Not from booze.  Lung cancer.  Cigarettes got him...
Jack Dalton...."

"Whatever happened to Dick?"

"You know what happened, Charlie.  We thought he died too, but
he moved to Phoenix and bought a liquor store."

Charlie lights up,
"Oh yeah.  I stayed on the West Coast.  I had a girl, I had a girl I will never forget.
Will never forget this girl.
I forgot her name."

(Phone static.  Interference.  Connection broken.)
Ron smiles.


A Christmas Carol
(with apologies to Charles Dickens)


When The Black Fart was three years old,
(just a Tiny Tyke of a Black Fart)
he awaited impatiently for Christmas morning --
the day Santa Claus had delivered all of his presents.

That day, The Tiny Black Fart went into the living room
upon arising Christmas morning,
and the only thing there was an envelope with his name on it.

The Tiny Black Fart panicked.
He woke up his father, Ebenezer Irving Black Fart,
(who was sleeping in his dirty underwear) yelling --
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! What the fuck happened to Santy Claus?!"
"Read the letter you little schmuck."
"Daddy, don't you know I'm too fukkin' young to read?"
"Okay, i will read it to you," said his father.

So Ebenezer Irving opened the envelope and started to read:
"Dear Tiny Black Fart,
I am sorry to inform you that due to the fact you were a bad Tiny Black Fart,
you will not be receiving any presents for the year ending 1935.
If you become a good Tiny Black Fart in 1936, we will review your case file
and advise accordingly.
Merry Christmas,
Santa Claus"

Naturally, Tiny Black Fart got hysterical and cursed out Santa Claus!

The day after Christmas, The Tiny Black Fart went for his holiday visit
to his grandfather, Abraham, who lived about a mile away.

When he entered his grandfather's house, in the living room,
all of these wonderful presents that The Tiny Black Fart was hoping for --
were there!

"Grandpa! Grandpa!" said The Tiny Black Fart "Why did Santy leave all the presents
at your house and not mine?" and his grandfather Abraham, who was a wise old man,
had to come up with an explanation, so he said:
"You know tatale, Santa Claus is a goy, therefore he does not have a yidishe kup;
he got his directions mixed up and left all your presents here."

And Tiny Black Fart had a very Merry Nitl after all.


bobby nolan, bad boy from jersey city

when the black fart was fourteen,
he ran away from home with his friend -
bobby nolan.


bobby was a handsome kid,
all-american boy-next-door,
except he was a mean, tough son-of-a-bitch.


in school, mrs. powers asked the class
if anyone could recite a poem.
bobby nolan raised his hand.


mrs. powers smiled at his sweet, young face.
bobby stood up:
  I am a little cough drop


  I've come to cure your cold
  Don't chew me up -
  SUCK  ME  WHOLE!


bobby was sent to the principal's office.
and one day bobby and the black fart -
ran away from home for 5 months.


the cops went after them
while they lived by petty thievery,
grabbing purses and other muggery.


the two boys ran into
'smelly' al butler who was hustling
queers on 42nd street.


smelly al ran with their crowd.
he stayed with them a few days,
but the cops had been watching


smelly.
sure enough, he snitched
and the boys were dragged home.


the black fart got the shit kicked out of him
by his dad who was always beatin' on him,
and bobby nolan was real mad with al.


the next day they're standing on the corner
of 75th & Broadway, North Bergen
and along comes smelly al.


he wants to grub a cigarette off bobby.
bobby takes one out and throws it on the ground.
'you want a cigarette?  pick it up..'


al goes to pick it up
and gets bobby's boot in his face - hard -
and hard again.


bobby nolan broke al's nose
damaged his face,
blood all over the place.

Cohen, L.V.

Leonard played guard on Riverside’s football team.
He was humongous, and looked bigger in his uniform.


His roommates were glad when he had study hall,
which was 3 hours per night, closely supervised.
(Study hall was reserved for those subjects where
you received less than a 'B'.)
Leonard always had study hall.


One day he announced he had no study hall
for the entire week.
The boys teased him unmercifully, as only
teenage boys can do.


Hey LV - your mother is a cocksucker!
Hey LV - your father takes it up the ass!
Hey LV - you fuckin' your fuckin' jew grandmother?


LV would sit on his trunk and shave with Noxema
from the jar.
The odor permeated the room.
He was big, he was hairy, he wore striped boxer shorts.
He used to chase The Black Fart around the trunk after The Black Fart
got through tormenting him.


Over one summer, when LV had to go to summer school,
a call came in that his entire family had been murdered
by Howard Unruh.  His mother, his father, his grandmother.
(His brother hid in a closet and escaped their upstairs boarder.)


LV went home.  He never returned to Riverside.
The Black Fart felt like shit for about fifteen minutes.


Feigenbaum

Late afternoon and once again
the phone rings.  It's Charlie.
Ron picks up and picks up
where they left off yesterday, late afternoon.

Charlie starts to whine, "Judy is dragging me to shul again."
Ron knows Charlie, Kennedy clan fan, and Irish Catholic man
does not want to go.  His back.  And well, he ain't Jewish.

The running commentary begins:
Ron ribs, "When you die, Charlie, Judy is gonna marry Goldberg.
Goldberg is gonna live off your money.  Judy has it all planned.
She called Susan and told her.
And she told Susan that Goldberg has a friend."

Charlie is getting pissed.  'Cause all the while and in-between,
Ron makes comments about the Kennedys.
Charlie quotes the exploits of Joe.  And Ron says Bobby was the only one
worth a shit.

Back and forth they go about Goldberg.
A real tennis match.  Without a net.  No one's keeping score.

So Goldberg, it seems, has a friend named Feigenbaum.
"And when I die, Charlie," Ron says without breaking stride,
"Susan will have Feigenbaum."
"Oh yeah, you're lying" says Charlie in his nasal New England twang,
"What's Feigenbaum's first name?"

"Phil.  Phil Feigenbaum.  He smokes cigars during breakfast.
Retired from the ladies' garment industry.  A salesman.
Judy told Susan he's a real catch, but the catch is
he wants Susan to become Orthodox.  Keep kosher house.
Two sets of paper plates, milkika and flaishika.  And she needs to learn
how to make a martini, 'cause he likes fourteen martinis after dinner. 
Says if she does he'll buy her good seats at the temple for the high holy days."

Charlie is pissed.  "Judy called Susan?"
"Yeah, yeah" says Ron (lyin' lyin' of course, straight out bold faced and big),
"The four of them are gonna go on a cruise before the worms get us, Charlie.
Judy's already got the tickets."

"I gotta go.  I'll talk to you tomorrow.  Call me," snaps Charlie.
The phone slams dead in Ron's ear.  His laughter fills the room.


gibby weisbart, nemesis

every day his mother said to him,
why can't you be more like gibby weisbart?
whether it was after school (when he went to school)
or whether it was after dinner,
for good reason, or for no reason at all,
why can't you be more like gibby weisbart?

he hated gibby weisbart.  with a passion.

one day, he and his friends
dragged gibby into the woods,
stripped him of all his clothes,
and left him there.

gibby had to walk the 12 blocks home, naked.
gibby weisbart hated him.

***

fast forward to first marriages.
first and only marriage for gibby -
first of three for the black fart.

his first wife, best friends with gibby's wife -
maid of honor at each other's weddings.
this threw the men together.
and gibby hated him.
and he hated gibby.



Hay Ain't For Horses

"Lemme call Charlie."


"Hello."

"Hey Charlie."
"Hey Ron."

"Charlie, I was talkin' to Judy and she told me you'd never been circumcised."

"Let me tell you somethin'.  And this is the God's Honest Truth.  No shit. 
She wanted me to get
circumcised
or she'd get cancer
of the cervix.  I told her,
I'd wear a rubber, would that satisfy her!"


"Charlie, Susan and I were at an event last night and we ran into a woman
who knew you. 
She said lots of nice things about you.
I'm afraid I told her you weren't circumcised.
She said, 'How much can you take off a 1/2 inch?'"

"You prick."


"Does Judy cook for you Charlie?"
"She's a lousy cook!  Every night it's Stouffer's.
Every night!  You ever eat Stouffer's Teryaki?
When I was a kid, I know you won't believe this
but,
my Mother had a charge account at Horn & Hardick's."

"Your mother had a charge account at Horn & Hardick's?  You're lyin'."

"No, no bullshit.  Every week she'd go in and pay for the week so we could eat."

"Charlie, having a charge account at Horn & Hardick's is like having a charge account
at McDonald's!  Where's Judy?"

"She went on a Hayride with the Hadassah.*"


*translation: http://www.hadassah.org/




Invitation to a Mitzvah: A Bris Story

Whenever two longtime marrieds sit down to dinner
dinner conversations invariably turn to topics better left off the table.

For example: remember when the kids were babies?
and as you were taking that first bite of hamburger
(just for argument's sake)
one spouse suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to discuss
diapers and stool perusal?

"Can we talk about this later?  Can't ya see I'm eating?"
These are the two most important questions you can ask at dinner.
Either spouse is at liberty to ask them.  This is call egalitarianism.


Just for argument's sake.


Then there's the sneak attack.


"Susan, I'm gonna call Charlie while you have your lunch."

(Pause.  Eat.  He dials.)

"Hi Judy?  Is Charlie there?

He's in the shower?  When's he getting out?

You're going to an event at the temple?

Tell me something Judy.

Is Charlie circumcised?

No?

(Pause)

Judy, Susan and I want to make a big party for Charlie.
Tell that cheap bastard we'll pay for everything.  Everything.
Wine, food, you name it, tell all your friends.  Everything.
This is gonna be a Bris for him. 
I'll be the Mohel.
I even have the axe.
Will you tell him?


Thanks.  Bye Judy."



"Susan, ya know Judy's a pretty nice woman, and I was thinking of telling her
she's been eating trayf all these years, but I thought that might make her mad."



Son of Feigenbaum

"Do you know about Feigenbaum's son from his third marriage?"
"No.  What about Feigenbaum's son from his third marriage."
(I put my feet up on the couch because I don't know if I'm gonna hear the long version
or the short)
"He changed his name."
"He changed his name from Feigenbaum?"
"Nah.  He changed his first name."
"And what, pray tell (I shouldn't ask) iswasdid friend Phil name him?"

"Sheldon.  Sheldon Feigenbaum.  He's twenty-five.
But when he was a student at Cornell he changed it
legally."

"To what?"
"Christian.  Christian Feigenbaum.

He has a sister. 

Sadie. 

She kept her name.

Her real name is Sayonara, but everyone calls her, Sadie."



The Black Fart Finds Religion

The Black Fart's father, Irving Black Fart forced his son to join the boy scouts
  at the temple.
But, The Black Fart was thrown out for beating up the Temple's President's son.
When confronted, The Black Fart cursed out the President of the Temple himself.
The President asked permission of Irving to beat up his son, The Black Fart.
Irving held his son, while Joshua Muss, President of the Temple, slapped him around.


The night before Yom Kippur
The Black Fart and his colleagues: Smelly Al Butler and Joe Devito, purchased
  1/4 pound boiled ham from True's Deli, the best deli in North Bergen.


The gentlemen then illegally entered Temple Beth-el
  and deposited most of the ham on the sacred torah.
The rest of the ham they ate themselves.


Next morning, on the holiest day of the Jewish calendar,
  when all the Jews in North Bergen were sitting in shul praying,
  and the torah was brought out and the ham was revealed --
  the rabbi and the congregation got 'upset.'


On departing from shul after services, they happened to notice
  The Black Fart and his colleagues sitting in Smelly Al's car in front of the temple
  smoking.


Next day, the Hudson Dispatch aka the Hudson Disgrace ran an article
  on the front page: Vandals Desecrate Temple Beth-el on High Holy Day
The vandals were not ID'd.
The vandals were never caught.


When The Black Fart was 72 years old, and visited his mother's gravesite,
he saw that the President of the Temple (Joshua Muss) was resting a short distance
  away from The Black Fart's mother's burial site.
So, The Black Fart visited Muss' grave and spit on it.  For luck.



The Black Fart Meets Wurstie

The Black Fart was in 7th grade, so was Wurstie.
Wurstie (pronounced in NJ: whooschtee)
  was 15 years old.
She was 5'3" tall. 
She was chubby. 
She wore glasses. 
She had pimples.
She had big tits.


Wurstie would take all the boys (younger classmates)
  up to Hudson County Park, now known as Braddock Park (Russell Crowe).
Wurstie would take down her pants;
Wurstie would have the guys stand in line;
Wurstie would allow them to mount her one at a time.


The Black Fart was a handsome boy
  (and the only jewboy in their class),
  but Wurstie wouldn't allow him to mount her, he was jewish;
  Wurstie was afraid if a jew did 'it,'
  she would get some kind of disease.


The Black Fart has not seen Wurstie since grammar school;
  he heard she joined a convent, and at 75 years old,
  she became a Mother Superior.


The Black Fart does not always tell the truth.


The Rise and Fall of the Tall, Elegant and Debonair Black Fart

He was Ronald Coleman.
He was Errol Flynn.
He was Sir Laurence Oliver.
He was complaining again about not getting his porno channel on TV.

He was Debonfukkinair, according to our client,
  who had to describe him to a candidate.
Everyone thought he was a short, fat, cigar-smoking mafia-hit-man
  when they spoke to him over the phone.

He was flyin' high with being called Debonfukkinair!





In loving memory of my husband, Ronald,
who always claimed he was not The Black Fart







Bio

A native New Yorker and New Media artist, Susan Katz is co-creator of Conjunction, a Forum for Poets and Writers.

Her major collaborative web project with Barry Smylie and Ryan Douglas is the multimedia transformation of Homer's ‘Iliad.’  The ‘Iliad’ was exhibited at the Dahesh Museum of Art, New York and at the People’s Poetry Gathering, New York.

The Douglas Smylie Katz projects also include ‘Tower,’ ‘URGENT,’ ‘Adventures of Indian Moon Moth’ and ‘pluiesybyl.’ ‘Tower’ was an award-winning multimedia collaboration produced by this trio known as Re-United Artists.

She has contributed her poetry to the exhibition, ‘Missing: Streetscape of a City in Mourning,’ curated at the New York Historical Society and to Reiner Strasser's ‘Project Hope,’ curated at the All Nations and Japan Artists Co-operation, Metropolitan Art Museum of Tokyo.

Susan is a member of the Academy of American Poets.