February 12, 2002

  • No More Mr. Nice Guy?


    First off, who cares about how many damn medals the *U.S*. has won/is winning in the Winter Olympics and whether or not we break the old record countwise?  The real truth is that the *U.S.* hasn’t won any of them. Individual athletes and teams earn their own recognition for their own accomplishments and, if there were no country designations for tallying purposes, their accomplishments would in no way be diminished.  Granted, it’s certainly great to represent the U.S., get backing based on that representation, and be grandly patriotic whether winning or not.  But to descend into a counting competition with other countries to me is a trite as watching the damn Xangalympics Leaderboard—which, by the way, has never worked.


    Which leads me to second off…  I don’t want no stinking boxes.  Not Xangalympics.  Not Current Site Data.  Not even a New Weblog Entry box.  I want circles.  I want ellipses.  I want spheres.   I want glass ceilings to gaze at the stars.  Fuck those little boxes—all made of ticky-tacky.


    Which brings me to third off.  No, there is no segue to third off.  It’s just it’s own goddam Bronze Medal—not.  I don’t like the blog concept-word *flame* (excepting the symbolism in Raw_Flame’s name).  It’s as nebulous as the concept of Original Sin and as relative as the notion of *common courtesy*.  What’s a *common courtesy* among pirates?  Smiling too much or being too genial with too many pats on the back will end you up overboard.


    So while most were softly commiserating with Buffalo about his anticipated self-departure I offered him, in his words, some “stern realism” :


    You need to rage against the predators with fire in your eyes and defiance in your heart. Your enemies should see you and be sick. They should faint under the cloak of your shadow--and not for any imagined fluttering prospect of potential lovemaking.


    For a moment, put your physical prowess and appearance aside as aspects of the outward warrior, and look within yourself to discover and embrace the indominatable soul-self which once as the "dark knight" so courageously prevailed in worthy causes. This warrior within must now do for itself, must act on its own behalf, as once it acted to save and shelter others.


    The world badly needs warriors of you prowess and multi-faceted potential. But all's lost if you alone don't chose your ground, make your stand, and slay all the demons that have gathered around.


    Buffalo could have just ignored my advice.  If he were a self-accomplished yuppie professional-type, he probably would have considered it a conceited insult on my part.  But he took it to heart.   Words aren’t always meant for the mind.


    "Yeah…yeah…that’s no flame," you’re saying.  Of course not—as it was taken.


    Lately, though I’ve become a snatch ornery and a bit strident about a few high-profile posts I’ve come across which I’ve considered raucously arrogant and intellecutally offensive .  In the past, I’d generally just move on.  Move on back into my own little sphere.  Fuck that. From now on, when I’m moved within to strongly disagree, I’m going on the warpath.  And part of that warpath may be the blogpath. The way I see it: If you want to blog and make comments possible, you have granted me potential comment-turf.  If I use that turf to stand and disagree, opine disharmoniously, or advocate satanically—don’t worry about my strategy.  Just decide if you just want to let it go, delete my comment, or respond. 


    I’ve been a warrior all my life.  Now it’s time to live again.

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