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Christerboy, the YoungCossak, and Sir Insolent, by Ray Zwarich

To all the Really Good Ones, and to all in peril on land or sea:

Yesterday Chris Hedges posted a new article on Scheerpost  . I was excited to read it. I had not heard his voice for a while. Ahh ... but I was disappointed when I then did. It now appears that he owes Bob Scheer one column every two weeks, whether he really has much 'new' to say or not. ("Please don't dominate the rap, jack .... This trains gotta run today". Not sayin'.....but food fer thought)

Copied below is Caliban's reply to tired old ChristerBoy.

Hope all are well. 

Well ... None breathe easy, but those of us who do still breathe surely must be thankful for the lull that seems to have fallen. (Knock quickly). Perhaps all are realizing together how stupid the whole tragic dramas is, and how we could get it all fixed up so easy if we just tried? 

Well ... I wouldn't count on that just yet....(sez an old ape t' himself) ... But things could be much worse by this point. (Again ... knock quickly).

I hope all fare well. Hope all spirits remain strong.


Christerboy, the YoungCossack, and Sir Insolent

In Medieval times most people in Europe were slaves of one sort or another, (and they were European white people, not Africans). When The Rich, the slave-masters, went hunting, they did not tire themselves and soil their boots. They sat themselves in the shade, and had slaves use sticks to go ‘beat around the bushes’, where the game might be, to flush the bunnies or the birdies out, so the rich gentlemen could shoot them.

Mr Hedges is a brilliant man. And ahh, he is a wordsmith like very few others among us. He can put words together that make our spirits soar, and then smack our lazy brains to wakefulness, often even to actual ‘awareness’. What a gift!

We can only guess what wages make him ‘beat around the bush’ as he does here. He tells us all about the ‘game’ in the bush, he describes its color, and the texture of its fur. He can even tell us the look in its eyes. But does he tell us anything that any here on Mr. Scheer's blog do not already know? 

Caliban has always kept his head down, best he could. There is always comfort in the shadows, or in a hood pulled low in a dark corner of any tavern. But some, like Hedges, Taibbi, Greenwald, and so many of that sort, always wanted to be the center of attention, so all would applaud their cleverness. Good for them. Can’t blame ’em. They certainly are clever lads, every one, and the lasses among them, maybe even more so. People desperately need what these people have, so why shouldn’t they enjoy acclaim when they provide it to ’em?

They well deserved our acclaim, for they did not ‘beat around the bush’. Nah … They flushed the ‘game’ fer us straight away, or else even better, shot it, cleaned it, and cooked it up for us into a delicious meal.

Ahh … But here ole ChristerBoy, (methinks he secretly loves Jesus with raging passion, though his heavy brain always bids his heart t’ shut the frack up when it starts pumpin’ THAT sort of lifeblood)…. Here Christopher, (his mother knew his spirit already when she named him), tells us all about the ‘game’ we’re all a huntin’. He tells us about this creature’s quirks and habits. And on and on he goes ….

But he doesn’t even tell us much (anything?) about the game that we all did not already know. Does he? He does not write to stir the hearts of those who do NOT know, hoping their brains will follow. Nooo …. He mails in a tired sermon for ole Bob Scheer to post for the choir’s entertainment.

And there, just across the way, an angry hateful Red Beast, oozing fire from every pore and orifice, glares at us with an evil menace so overpowering that none could doubt its intentions. Is it the Balrog? Or WORSE??

But all the good lad Mr. Hedges can seem to do now is beat the ground around this terrible Beast with his sticks?

When the Beast stands so close that you can feel the foul stinking fire-heat of its breath, when you could read a blaring warning by the evil light shining from its eyes, when the Red Beast turns its head and looks at YOU, well … sure … even the bravest feel their mouths go dry. As their warriors’ bodies prepare to fight or die, all our juices are then needed to carry oxygen. Keeping our mouths comfortably wet becomes a low priority.

Have ye never felt that, good Mr. Hedges? Mr. Taibbi? Mr. Greenwald? Never fought a hopeless fight with a mouth so dry you could not even swallow or speak? Sure ya have ... and ya know ... Where’s all yer wit and cleverness then? Ehh?

And you KNOW such a fight is coming, don’t you? And your mouth is starting to go a little dry, isn’t it? And you now 'see' as the Beast turns its head and looks at YOU! DON'T you? (Good lord geezus, please don't tell me this beast is taking even people like YOU unaware?)

These clever lads have 'seen' many terrible sights, but they have grown accustomed to being rewarded for their wit. They like being feted and celebrated. Their mamas beam with pride t’ ‘see’ them. But now they’re beginning to realize, as the Red Beast has risen from its slumber, that as the Enemy goes down his checklist of tasks and priorities, checking off one by one, silencing clever mouthy young lads and lasses is already very high on the list, and moving up fast.

Such boys and girls are learning to ‘swallow hard’. We can 'see' that clearly enough. But they CAN feel their mouths begin to fill with cotton, and sometimes it’s already getting hard to swallow at all.

Poor lads like brave young Greenwald may still grieve over their lost $500k per, while yet taking comfort where such a fortune still pampers them well. But he lives where cruel forces can be VERY unrestrained in exerting their will on others. Do the dreaded by many, but welcomed by others, does the ROTAM, patrol his neighborhood? If not, does he think maybe they know his address?

Young Taibbi keeps his cap pulled down tight on his head. Ahh ..Here’s a lad who knows how to get up suddenly, and run very fast. He feels the blood of his Slavic pride. He holds in him that Slavic spirit, slow to saddle up, but when they do they ride VERY fast. Best keep the hat pulled down tight. Any moment, a lad like that could leap onto his pony’s back and be away like lightning. 

Yea ... Them Slavic boys ... You know what a Slavic boy sez to a Catholic? When them priests take off their fancy golden dresses, they fart and stink just like the rest of us. (Hedges is the one who always looks and sounds like he thinks he’s wearing a gilded dress).

Ahh ….But YoungCossak Taibbi still rides like a golden boy, so proud to show his handsome face. But he was stung, (no, REALLY, like a supple wet leather lash square across the face, that left a welt that he can still feel on cold damp days), when the handsome boys in fancy suits started looking at him differently. Is Rolling Stone for sale? Or vulnerable to a hostile? How are real estate prices in New Jersey? Any proposed zoning that could drive down prices is his shire?

O yea …. How I know, Matty m’boy. Babies counting on you. Yer back is turning silver, is it not? … And you KNOW how much raw power is behind those chortling swilling handsome boys looking out at those breathtaking views from their commanding heights. Wonder how many poor girls lost their breath, and then soon their knickers, at such a view? (It’s not just naive young lads get ‘shafted’ in the end).

Best learn to pull the brim low, to hide your pretty face when you don't want it seen, but easy to lift a casual fraction to see out clearly. A hood can be effective, but can attract too much attention in some places. 

Whatcha’ gonna do, boys? Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when they come for YOU? (hmm …make a catchy song lyric…note that down)

Well … to be honest …. It sure looks to me like Mr. Hedges is ‘pulling his punches’ here. Well ...He could just be tired out. No one's writing is always good. (I think the secret to better writing is mostly just to file the bad stuff under 'trash'). What wages has he to pay? How loudly do his babes cry? Maybe he's under contract? He's a man who writes for pay, after all. (We all remember what ole Antoine Batiste always said as he set out to walk the Second Line, "Playyyy fer 'dat MUNNY boys. Play fer 'dat fuckin' money".  

Or ... If ya just don’t have the stones t’ throw, lad, that’s OK. It’s not fer every lad to swing a sword. But don’t pretend to be one thing, and then not ‘be’ that. Not a good ‘look’ on you, ChristerBoy. 4 babes? Yer back is long gone silver. There’s no sound that tortures a silverback’s soul quite like the cry of a hungry baby. Ehh?

You remember what the young samurai Bourne said to the terrified reporter, trying to wake him into a state that could keep him alive?

This is REAL!

We just witnessed our Enemy's full raw power, in fully aroused execution of that Enemy’s Lust and Desire. Our nation just got focked, boys and girls. Every which way. Evil joy-juice in every hole we have.

Do any of us really wonder if we, our whole nation, have just been raped? Even ole Bob Scheer's followers? Surely not, (Caliban sez hopefully .... Surely they ALL can surely 'see' that).

And Hedges thinks NOW’s the time to prattle on like a college professor in a gilded dress?

C’mon, ChristerBoy …. Indeed this is REAL! Now is the time that lads like you, and the YoungCossak Taibbi, and the brave Sir Insolent Greenwald, must do better than this. I have faith in you, (that you can, and you will). Caliban will be counting on lads and lasses like you. 

We just saw the Red Beasts naked face! 

NOW is NOT the time to saunter! 

RUN!! ..You fools !!.. RUN!!!!

Yea ... Caliban heard old Sitting Bull say, "Now is the time to let your stallion or mare feel her or his eternal desire to be FREE! Let her and him have their WHOLE desire, let them chase the wind itself, which will then caress your warriors’ hair as even no woman nor man ever could.

Ahh …, Well …. An old man best be along …