Monday, February 16, 2009

I Learned Many Things in This Room

One of the great, confusing, pleasures in this great, confusing world is that of listening to Walter Sullivan speak. The bull fiddle baritone of pear shaped tones propelled out of a similar silhouette like the giant intergalactic beetles of Starship Troopers belching flaming ether into the Cosmos.

Could this latest blast of gaseous obfuscation from Foghorn Leghorn mean what I think it means? The ambulance chaser who, like many a JV debater, once discovered that the more clauses, phrases, qualifiers and articles you put in front of any actual Statement or Idea, the better your chances of the listener not realizing that the Statement or Idea has no merit, no truth, or no meaning. "Gee, he must be really smart, I didn't understand him at all."

By the time we got to the Varsity, we saw through that shit, and I won many a match, making the judge laugh as I eviscerated my opponents on style alone. Those at the other end of the intellectual spectrum from the one impressed by such syntactical road-blockery are often prejudiced against the argument for much the same reason. "With all that bullshit in his argument, he must have nothing to say."

And Walter rarely has anything to say, that's exactly why he takes so looooong to say it. Shitty lawyers often sound like Walter. They convince dopes - and yes, that includes some judges, but mostly dopey clients - that if your syntax is impenetrable, you must be good. But listen to the really good lawyers. You can read transcripts of their arguments made before the Supreme Court. The issues are sometimes technical, but they're always presented CLEARLY, understandable, without the meaningless extras.

But does the use of Walter as wingman to the "Keintz-Rossman Warning" (Robert Ludlum, take note) mean that he has regained his long-ago position as CHCA board lawyer-defender-explainer? As I recall, this traditional position hasn't been held by Walter for YEARS, not since Maxine!

Jeremy Heep, straight outta Madmen, held it until Tia and he, the Hills' Mrs. and Mr. Wallace Simpson, got wind of the various legal shitstorms barreling across the plains and decided that they should exhibit a conspicuous lack of community involvement in their resumes during these unsettled times.

Then came Ed Berg, who wore less formal attire to meetings. Good thing; he was never the smooth operator Jeremy was. The water Ed was carrying was much more likely to slosh and splash his J. Crew.

While Ed was never much to contend with, he got out too. And you may remember that while I opined that the reason was cover, he maintained it was because of logistics. He was going to New Jersey. And I've never heard of anyone in the CHCA not living on The Hill, have you?

This musing of mine has been presented as a KEY VIOLATION of Pete's Editorial Duties. And I've never heard of a Newspaper with an opinion expressed in it that was disagreed with, have you?

So, is it now back to Walter? This, optimist that I am, gives me hope. Because if the best they can do is to bring this thing out of mothballs to make "gravy-tas" laden arguments, it shows that they're pretty much out of gas - the perfect opportunity for Uncle Walt. Resignations, escapes, anyone with an ounce of talent gone - the walls are closing in on the Inner Circle.

An "official letter" delivered by two stooges who haven't bought a suit since Reagan was President. A Dilbert straight from Central Casting and Philly's oldest and weirdest Young Republican. This is the best they've got left. The guys nobody picked for choose-up stickball - even if they brought their own bat.

Soon, the Goebbels children will be given their bedtime candy, while the true believers will unfurl maps to plan imagined counter-offensives, while the very old and the very lame fight on above, in the ruins.

I have never written a more apt metaphor than this: The CHCA board is a WOUNDED ANIMAL, and while we have all heard that wounded animals are dangerous, they are also EASIER TO KILL. It's interesting that while humans always reference the danger, animals who prey, never hesitate, and killing animals is their business.

So, as a resident of a certain Parisian cemetery would croon, "the time for hesitation is through." Our best chance is NOW. Election crime in broad daylight, admitted to by a woman whose personality is incapable of engendering sympathy in others, the walking Hate Crime that is Rob Remus, the Joke that is Mark Kientz, and now another illegal meeting/court marshal - but with a surprise ending.

"The Warning" indicates monthly votes on Pete - whether he's at the Meeting or not - until they get the vote they want, or he resigns. We must act first. I may even have some surprises of my own.

Ed (I sleep NEAR the fishes) Feldman

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