To all the Really Good Ones, and to all in peril on land or sea: Connery -- from among the proud fierce Scots. The clan Wallace was even among his countrymen. Ahh ... I often hear his voice in me ... As Malone, I hear his calm advice. As Forrester, I hear his calm power, like some mythical Rimbaud, or Salinger, so powerful that he said "no" when Lady Fame offered up her naked charms and sang to him so sweetly. (And he was not even lashed to the mast). His slight lilting brogue ... ("You want to find fresh apples, don't go to the barrel, go to the tree". --Malone. Yea ... Funny, I often think in that brogue. What would Malone 'see', or do, or say? "Did you think you could fool me, Giuseppi?" "I'm better than you, you stuck Irish pig!" "Ah, I LIKE this one". We need men like you, good lad. Will ya follow Mr. Ness?" A sheepish smile, the kind on the fool's face when he 'gets' the joke. "Yea, sure. I guess so. Yea. Why not?" And thus are blood oaths sworn between men. The scene in Finding Forrester, when he rises to save young Jamaal. A scene played to perfection. See how he glares at pretentiousness, at the professor who calls his name, when he turns and looks. Surprising that the old fool didn't burst into flames. Pack every Oscar up and send it immediately. No moment on film was ever better acted. (I dare any to claim their eyes remained dry through that scene). Sean Connery was a full grown man among us. An athlete in his youth. As dashing and attractive to the ladies as any man who ever lived. The type of man to make every lady swoon, but much more loved, even, by other men. Spill a drop for ole Sean, boys ... A better man never walked among us. Spill a drop, then lift yer glasses high, and speak his name. Connery. And then drink deep to remember what a man, what a "toxic man", he was. As we hear the bell's sad mournful toll, slam an empty glass on a wet sloppy bartop for ole Sean.  My favorite moment in Finding Forrester was when Jamaal Wallace, (and Forrester saw a bit of William in the boy's courage), when Jamaal teases him about his homeland 'Ireland'. You want to see sudden fire in a man's eyes? "LOL ... I'm jus' messin' witcha, man" ... "Did you miss it, or did you 'miss' it?" "Not exactly a 'soup question', is it?" Men among men ... The Highland men were so wild and fierce that even the Romans took a look across the wild forbidding moor rising into the distance, and they thought better of even trying. Caesar had heard about them, and likely would have, (and maybe could have), but never had time to get up that far. The authority of the Druid Priests, (Tolkien, anyone?), kept the Celtic tribes of Britain and France strong against the Germanic tribes that ruled the great forests and rich valleys to the east, (with the Slavs dwelling further east, beyond). The authority of the Druids gave the Celts their tribal identity, and made their Celtic tribe as strong as they could, anyway. Caesar was fascinated by the Druid Priests' authority and power, and wrote much about it. They forbade their 'bible', their 'texts', their beliefs, their superstitions, their cultural codes and laws, be written. Every priest was required to commit it, the entire body of it, to memory, Caesar tells us, and it could only be spoken, never written, when taught. Caesar describes the burial mounds these Celts sometimes made from their weapons, never touched by anyone, even if the weapons be gold, lest a deadly curse fall. The same mounds Tolkien described when Aragorn led the hobbits, including the mortally wounded Frodo, across the barren trackless moor, where a fool hobbits' fire can be seen for many leagues, by Nazgul, on a dark moonless night. The Celts prided their prowess as warriors, but the wild Germanic tribes fought like wild beasts. Caesar tells us that among the Celtic Gauls it was said that even the look in the German's eyes was so keen that one could not even look them in the face. They lived almost as wild animals, Caesar reports. They dressed only in animal skins that barely provided modesty, and bathed naked in the cold rivers, men and women together, even in winter. Their horses were ugly stunted looking creatures, but were keenly intelligent, and courageous, and highly trained to a unique style of fighting. There was no cavalry fiercer than the German's. 500 German cavalry, Caesar tells us, would not hesitate to attack an opposing force of 10,000. (Caesar soon recruited them into his own army, but he gave them better horses, he says, which he took from the Gauls, who took great pride in their thoroughbreds). The German cavalry warriors thought the use of a saddle, like drinking wine, (as the Celtic Gauls did both), was "effeminate", from the Latin, 'effeminatus', meaning "weakened, emasculated, made feminine". (That was the word Caesar used). Connery - A man's man ... A toxic man's toxic man. They say the Scots wore nothing 'neath their kilts. Aye ... And the lassies smiled like Mona Lisa, in eternal female wisdom, and left the lads to imagine what a girl might wear, or not, under a skirt. A female smirk? Such raw power. Ridicule? Or a smile of approval? And a young swain's heart would die, then and there, to know. In modern female fantasies, (being used as the Orwellian basis for controlling delusions, as delivered by glamorous witches from the east), skinny sexy Wonder Women may wield heavy swords against grown men, (in cute skimpy little outfits, of course), but in the real world, girls, women are not that stupid, are they? Every movie, now'days, (seems like anyways), has a fierce woman warrior who saves the day, all skinny sexy, of course, and wearing sexy outfits, with hair done 'just so' ... Eye make-up (even on fierce female 'Wildings'), looking great. Yea ... well ... great ... Uhh ... (Geez..) ... Tell ya what ... Let's head on out t' the rugby field, girls. I'll toss ya the ball. We'll see how ya do. (Hey ... I'm 72, but I like my chances. I probably could never catch you when you had the ball. (The old knees are long shot). But you wanna mess with ole Caliban, darlin' girl, when the ball is in my scratchy hard-calloused leather mitts? A stiff arm to such a lovely face? You sure you wanna play men's stupid games? Anyway ... Women now'days ... Sheesh ... Yer dad was right, Tom Doyle. (An old rugby buddy a' mine, our stout team captain, he was). Every man who marries will sooner or later ask himself, "Is the fuckin' ya get worth the fuckin' ya take?" My own father always said, "If I hafta be married, I think that everybody oughta' hafta be married". Joe talks t' God. "God, why did you hafta make 'em so gol dang pretty?" "Well, Joe, I wanted you to enjoy looking at them". "Well ... OK ... I get that", Joe says, "but why'd ya hafta make 'em smell so nice?" "C'mon, Joe ... I wanted you to like being up close to them". "Well OK ... OK ... I get the general drift here. Just answer me one last question. Why did ya hafta make them so gol dang STUPID?" "C'mon, Joe. I had to make sure they'd like YOU." Ahh ... The Human Condition ... God, (Nature, give it any name you want), is such a jokester. "He gives you instincts and appetites so powerful you can't resist them, and then he sets the rules in direct opposition". --Pacino, as The Devil, trying to 'sell' his own son. Neither with 'em. Nor without. We're humans. We have to somehow put up with each other. Folks used to just 'know' these things, but once ex-CIA operative Gloria Steinem got all the girls all riled up, like they were all missing out on exciting lives of beauty and glamor, women decided they were poor victims unless they could "have it all". Faithful devoted men, and exciting dangerous lovers in the dark. "Fuck lots of men, girls", (or women, or whatever), the ex-CIA operative told them. Fuck any one ya want. Whenever you want to. Men are pigs. Your privy parts are golden, girls, and NEVER admit that your shit doesn't smell like gardenias. That's what ex-CIA operative, Ms. Gloria, (G-L-O-R-I-A Glooooriahh!!), told 'em. That's what glamour girl Steinem taught 'em. Lift your dresses girls. Show off your boobies and pee-pees for all the boys to see. Advertise! Girl Power FOREVER! Get EVEN! Fuck whoever you want, whenever you want. Adopt the morals of alley cats in heat. It's the 'liberation' you need, girls. Heh..heh..and ye fools thought The Devil was only male? And here we are. And look how happy all the women are, snarling like vicious cats in heat, about things like "toxic masculinity", as they struggle through the considerable miseries of single motherhood, (after the 'wham bam thank ya ma'am' of all the men who are 'wising up'.).  Ms. Steinem fucked lots of men. Lots and LOTS. She liked to brag about it. She mocked the very institution of marriage as "slavery". She was well past menopause, already shriveling, before she married, and rumor was it was no more than a marriage of convenience, even then, (to help a friend with a visa problem). She had no children. Her elderly husband soon died. Wow ... Where thoughts do drift ... eh? Sean Connery ... A toxic man's toxic man ... A dumb old silverback's dumb old silverback. He had a couple of passionate young loves. Then he dated several (three, I think) actresses. His early marriage did not work out. (He doggedly gave it 9 years. She later claimed she was his victim). But then he met his mate. They were married from 1975 until yesterday. A toxic man, indeed. Which woman would not have lain down for him? Which one? Where? Do true 'ladies' even exist any more? He could have had a more beautiful one every night. Sure seems t' me, (close your teeth, clench the molars a bit, and say "sure seems t' me", if you want to hear his lilting brogue, roll the 'r' in 'sure' just ever so slightly), sure seems t' me that the Highland Men fight like wild beasts, they are such fierce warriors, because they feel such tender love for their women folk. Hmm.. Ya s'pose? They love their wives that way, for half a century near, forsaking all others ... imagine what they feel for their daughters? (Ahh ... the dreaded evil 'patriarchy', (ptui!!), as girls are now taught to hate not merely their fathers, but fatherhood itself) ... It was Hadrian, who came along about as long after Caesar as Colin Powell after General Custer, who looked across the rising moor, and said: "What'd'ya say let's not mess with them crazy-ass Scots? You seen that fella Connery? You seen his crazy-ass buddies? What say let's just build a wall instead? A man's man. Excuse us, ladies, but such talk still means something to some of us. When you hear a bang outside in the night, and you hear the wolf sniff at your threshold, you may call your sister, (if you don't have a brother), but you hope her husband's home, or she's with her boyfriend, don't ya, darlin' girl?  Steinem is now a long-shriveled flower. The glory long gone. The bloom does fall from every one. If that's all you were to any man, why would any want you then? Ah well, the world is full of lonely cats to bring solace to old 'ladies', once alley cats themselves, but now alone. Red rooster says, "cocka-doodle-doodly-do". Richland Women she says, "any dude will do". --Mississippi John Hurt Connery ... A man's man ... in a world where we're told there are 97, (count 'em), 97 human genders, and where "gender is just a performance anyway". (God bless them LGBTQRS folks, anyway). Every man not ashamed of his manhood, every man alive among us, spill a drop for ole Sean. Glasses high. Drink deep and slam 'em down, and call for another. Which man can't make his "wahoo!" last all night? Which men can follow? Which chertish their wives and dughters much more than mewre life itself?Which women love their men, for loving them so? (Rather than hate them?) Caliban R Zwarich Bent Birch Farm 63 Webber Rd Brookfield, MA 01506 774 449-8030  |
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