Friday, August 07, 2009

To All My Readers

Note to Jim F. and John L. This blog should be used to do what the Local has been pressured into not doing, reporting the movements of a small group of greedy Hill business people, power addicted suburban psychopaths, and their one or two manipulators, whose profiles fall into both categories, as their shenanigans are too entertaining to miss.

To be reasonable, let's compromise. For every piece about evil Obama or Crazy Pop stars, you write one about what's going on in our favorite chintz appointed halfway house. How's that?
Now back to my delightful obsession.

The desperate ones, the ones who - by their own admission - are losing money in this economy, have followed the lazy way to stop the bleeding. They believed a messiah. Rather than change their own failing business models, read the marketplace, improve their mediocre product or just pack up, they believed someone who, up 'til now, has treated them with the same regard he has for all the "help." The same regard he showed for them when he put up signs that, while in his foot-stamping-spoiled-rich-kid mind punished the Local and others, hurt the businesses of the Avenue more than anyone.

I'm talking to you Richie. I see you read this blog most every day. I know because people you trust tell me so. They also tell me that your attorneys read it. And also your Mother. So you must all be interested in what I have to say.

I have exposed your plans to pack the board with employees, tenants, friends and ass lickers to get control for your upcoming zoning and for your continued revenge on the neighborhood that does not give you the love you deserve.

Don't get me wrong, Richie, my darling, for Ass Licking, as I have said before, is something that, both figuratively and literally, is weird at first, and then, when you get used it, quite pleasant. It only becomes unsavory when you come to expect it, and demand it, as you do.

But what can we expect from someone whose fortune is built on the ravaged bodies of West Virginia coal miners, tricked out of their land by your ancestors, their mountaintops ripped to expose your fortune below, while the debris pollutes their steams for generations unborn. And all it takes for the Williamson, WV, newspaper to take your picture and thank you is a $40,000.00 scholarship for some local college students. Extrapolating that out for the early death and misery caused by the strip mining you finance, no wonder you hate the Hill. Fran O'Donnell, Greg Welsh, and the board are much more expensive, per capita, than those simple mountain folk you play tricks on.

Fashion note: Richie wore a pink shirt for one of the Mingo county photo op's. What WERE you thinking? Them thar folk ain't as broad minded as we'uns concernin' our sartorial symbolizin'.
But more about Richie later. Much more. Because I have been doing my research. On Cotiga, Tigaco, and other companies Richie uses to line his pockets with green, while lining other peoples' lungs with black. Tales of the sewing machine "salesman" - a key player in obtaining mineral rights from West Virginia Hill People, and of the King Coal Highway, of a desperate visit to the EPA in Philly, by the Governor of West Virginia, to allow mountain top removal, attempting to beat a moratorium by the pesky Obama people. That Richie's two groups of victims are both identified as "Hill People," yet separated by hundreds of miles and thousands of dollars of per capita earning is an irony that may earn it a place in a book title someday. Soon.

Richie, do you array your toy soldiers in dress rehearsals for these real life maneuvers? If so, who plays me? And do I stay erect, and if so, for how long?

This is the stuff the Local should cover. It's the stuff that gets you readers, recognition, and awards. But I guess paychecks are important too. So just be quiet, Local folks. Cash your paychecks, use your health care. And lose your souls.

Me, I ain't got no soul, so full speed ahead.

Jim Albrecht, who used to live next door to me, and who was warned by me about the weak DNA strain that governs Hill ethics, mentioned a "circle" that closed with the arrest of John Capoferri. John was part of the consortium of Hill "players" who helped get Richie his committee to mediate his dispute with the Local. John's buddy Richard Maloumian was involved too. John and Maloumian were joined at the hip back then. They used to go into the Local's office together and tell Pete how to run his newspaper, as a Real estate goniff and a rug salesman who married well have a right to do. Dick Doyle was part of the "let's get Richie his apology and he'll thank us somehow" club too. Hey fellas, what exactly did Richie do for you in return?

Now Maloumian and Capoferri aren't friends anymore. I've never known whether I should be happy or sad about the phrase "There is no honor among Thieves." Maybe I'm ambivalent about it 'cause I ain't got no soul.

Will Richie be a character witness at Johns' trial? Is it something that a call to Donna Reed can fix? Do you think he'll make that call for a guy who tried to be such a good friend to him in the past? If you can hold your breath that long, you should go work in one of the mines leased out by Richie and his Momma.

Was Richie a character witness after they led Chip Butler away? After all, Chip did sell the CHCA property to Richie, contrary to the boards' instructions. How did Richie repay that favor?
See, Richie doesn't pay back, he only leaves you the change, and he deducts the change. Coal dust kill your husband? I'll send six kids to community college, with my tax breaks included. Mountain rubble in your drinking water? I'll build a road with what's left, again with deductions, so my product can be transported. I'll screw the ungrateful Hillers by not renting my properties, and deduct those losses off my taxes too. Do any of you Keanu-bright pawns see The Matrix yet?

So Wendy, Art and the Missus, Greg and Fran, do you really think that you can trust him? I know Greg thinks he can outsmart Richie, that's in Greg's DNA. But you're stepping way up in class here kids. Greg, this guy and his family were screwing Americans out of their land and then sending them to their doom beneath that land when your people were still ducking cossacks. And Fran, your people were digging potatoes when Richie's forefathers had their hand up the back of the Irish maids' uniform while she served them Au Gratin. So read up Richie. You'll never guess who told me about your interest in my work. But try.

I. F. (Izzy) Feldman

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4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ed,

Can you please go away? I was just starting to think this blog was going to have some worthwhile posts, instead of more of your personal vendetta against Snowden. You don't live here. You do nothing of any benefit to the CH community. Doesn't being a buffoon and irritant to a neighborhood get old after a while?

Fri Aug 07, 04:01:00 PM EDT  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You can't wait to read my stuff honey. You responded quicker than a crack whore to a twenty. How can I leave you, my little anonymous coward. I'm so near to you I can smell your desire, and your Schmitter breath.
PS: The "I was just starting to think" part of your post was ironic,right?
Your Love Bunny-Ed

Fri Aug 07, 05:19:00 PM EDT  
Blogger reverend chris said...

There was a day on 94.1 FM (this was back three years when they tried the "all-talk" formate, which if LOOOVED) where they had people call in with their post-Schmitter stories. My favorite was a gentleman who, "had a Schmitter on Saturday and by Sunday, NO JOKE, double digits in the bathroom".

Needless to say he was never going to eat another.

I, honestly, have never had one. I have personal boundaries when it comes to my sammiches. (and I make a mean sandwich... just ask Carl Drake.)

Sat Aug 08, 04:53:00 AM EDT  
Blogger Ed Feldman said...

As with all food and other primal experiences, I had an immediate reaction to the Schmitter, and later, a more analytical one.
My first reaction was, "Who puked on my Cheesesteak?" Later, after examining its' ingredients, which, as we all know, include that traditional South Philly Italian condiment, Russian Dressing (Or Thousand Island for you Still Cold Warriors-or Secret Sauce for you Post McDonalds types).
Having sampled what were purported to be Cheesesteaks made in places where food has to include the color orange to be popular, I concluded, "This is what they think a Cheesesteak is in Des Moines".
McNally's makes a lot of food that I have enjoyed.-but even their non Schmitter Cheesesteaks taste more like roast beef than the real thing-Maybe their meat is too good-or the oil they use. This isn't a slam, just an analysis from someone who grew up in the industry. I always stuck to the turkey and burgers.
I can't eat there now 'cause I can't stop thinking that Joe Pie, Annes' wife, might have touched something that I might order-or that my platter might have a "Casino"-like "surprise" included. But to the rest of you-Bon Appetit- The turkey and stuffing sandwich is the closest thing to a Seconal you can buy without a prescription. That's a compliment.
Note to Brad and Missy-try Towey's for Cheesesteaks-but leave the rugby shirt with the maid.
Ed Brillat-Feldman

Sun Aug 09, 02:01:00 PM EDT  

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