A reader writes, “Pardon me, boy, is this the Ugly Hombre’s
Station?” (Click the keys to start the morning off right, but pardon the
instrumentation.) He continues:
Alas, I’ve seen it before, the Calamity that comes when a Lifetime of Happy
Dreams is crushed against the Rocks of Despair. Yes, we mistake Hapless Twits for villains. We
choose the Wrong Folks for enemies in a hot Hong Kong fantasy of Karate Rage: Carson, who
only made multitudes smile and never hurt anyone he didn’t know, and the pathetic Thomson,
once valuable but now a Bloviating Jackass. Shame on you.
What you need is blood. I can sense it. And the Sacrifice of Flesh in a Righteous Cause,
which brings so many satisfactions: the surprisingly easy penetration of the knife or pick, the
sudden limp collapse of your victim, the simple taste of his crimson as you lick your hand. Yessir,
there’s much to be said for taking a life.
You need a Target of Note, or you’ll never find peace. I suggest Joe Lieberman. He should be
Easy Prey, walking his $3,000 dog on the sunny Connecticut street where he lives, lost in his
smarmy world of kindly self-approval. Then you can leave an insider’s signature, the mask of PIG
placed on his still grinning face, just as Guy
Grand would do if he were still around.
He adds that he’s begun a round of steroid therapy. By spring he expects to be either Steve
Reeves or Grandma Moses.