International Writers Magazine - Our Tenth Year: Comment
and Nothing But
The Magpie, gave me a queen size piece of her mind (what there
is of it) on the way out the door. "Youre never going
to get a job with all the vituperative invective you spew on the
Internet, you chump!"
She was letting
me know how she felt about a choice little morsel I wrote concerning
Yankees press coverage, where I questioned the constant need of boring,
tedious New Yorkers for upbeat puff articles that reinforce their need
to quote-unquote "feel good about themselves".
Well, as Steve Martin used to exclaim before he lapsed into senility,
"Excuuuse meeee!" The fact of the matter is, if youre
performing you dont need any scumbag sportswriters to buttress
your self-esteem. In point of fact, if things are not going that great,
which they arent for most people, a feelgood moment is not the
ticket. Sometimes a hard dose of reality is the more appropriate prescription.
I am no Cassandra, although nobody listens to me anyway. On the other
hand, I am no Mary Poppins either. Basically, I am calling them as I
see them, and my record is no worse than these pineapplehead Major League
umpires, some of whom are deserving of a white cane, thick eyeglasses
and a seeing eye dog. They are calling foul balls that are landing fair,
baserunners out when they are safe and caught fly balls that took a
bounce. Why should I be held to a higher standard?
Magpie is pissed off because I dared to impugn the honor of New Yorkers.
She has been living here her whole life, and she thinks that these dinks
are normal. What can you say about people who are so phony that you
can immediately discount nearly everything that comes out of their mouths
as a lie; who lie when the truth would do just as well, just to keep
in practice; whose every breath is horse manure?
I dont mean to insult everybody, just all the outer boroughs,
all the suburbs and 99% of Manhattan. The rest are OK. Hey, Im
no genius. I could be calling things wrong, like the baseball umpire.
I can only call what I see! Me, I dont have to lie. I can drive
you insane and send you running out of the room, screaming, just by
telling you the straight truth. I already got too much on my plate.
My uncle once advised me, "Write down the story of your life".
Yeah, right! If I wrote with both hands simultaneously 24 hours a day
I still couldnt get all of it out. The public will just have to
settle for choice little select morsels that I regurgitate from my mind.
Magpie wants me to be successful so that I can bring in reams of cash,
so she can go out for lunch and cocktails, buy more junk and go on vacation,
and I want it too. Unfortunately, things are a bit slow lately, so I
mostly find myself sucking nips of rum from a pint bottle and playing
the harmonica on a park bench. No shame there. A lot of bigger guys
than I am are more-or-less doing the same thing (unless they are like
Madoff and R. Allen Stanford, who were a year ago proclaiming "Its
good to be the king", but are now in prison getting into fistfights
with auto thieves), except they dont have the comfort of a harmonica
to keep them warm.
Things will pick up. Maybe. Obama is crowing that the $800 billion stimulus
package has saved or created 650,000 jobs. Im not complaining.
Its keeping me afloat, temporarily. I might even get some temporary
work for decent money next week if my stars are aligned right. Just
in case, I am practicing Christmas music on the harmonica so I can play
on the street during the holidays. Who knows?
In the meantime, I dont regret anything I ever published on the
Internet. Sure, a lot of it might offend people as intemperate. No doubt,
the authorities in communist China are not letting anything of mine
get through to their readers. I have always been anathema to both communists
and Republicans (and Democrats). If this was 50 years ago I would be
in jail, no doubt about it.
But the Internet is what you make of it. If you are a conformist type
of twit you will find a large enough audience of likeminded boring drips,
just like in physical reality. I, on the other hand, have always been
an animal and I am still one in cyberspace. Nothing has changed, only
now it has become magnified.
My concept of reality is what I am actually seeing. But like third base
umpire Tim McClellan I am not seeing what whole picture, only what my
rather stunted ability is permitting me to see. Sorry! Take it for what
it is worth. If you think you can get a better point of view somewhere
else, you are free to delete me and go there. No hard feelings.
Four hundred years ago Shakespeare wrote, "To thine own self be
true", and thats what I am trying to do. If you are true
to thine own self, you have no need of dumb, stupid little articles
that make you feel good about yourself. I have done a lot of bad things,
but they always been an organic result of my circumstances and my personal
nature, and I dont feel ashamed of any of them (well, maybe a
couple of them). Je ne regrette rien.
Like Shakespeare, my uncle, Saul Bellow, will be remembered hundreds
of years hence, and he had the genius to include me in some of his writings,
which turned out to be good for him because I have turned out to be
the most interesting of his relations. This is one of the reasons that
I have decided to leave behind an unvarnished history of myself and
my motivations. Someday in the far future, in the 25th century, artists
and writers will refer to my uncles stories to get a clear picture
of what Americans were like in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries,
and I want to be included. No, I want to be entertaining! If I have
to go out on a limb to be remembered as a true twenty-first animal,
then Im glad for the opportunity.
© Dean Borok Nov 2dn 2009
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