Ghost Troop Home Page April Fools Part 3

September 3, Email to Ghost Troop

Listen up, Ghost Troop! (Everyone paying attention?)

We have a new member, a very special one whom I met as I was undertaking my mission to Ft. Stewart to find out the truth. I sent him the news that I have sent you (the press kit) and he read it from start to finish. Please don't delete the stuff I’ve sent and handed you and our intermediaries (and their intermediaries, etc.), because once people have accepted your creative insinuations of my basic premises they have to be given some analyses. [Editor’s emphasis, in all cases]

You’d be amazed at how many people (like this new comrade) I met on a thousand mile bicycle ride, and most of them are listening now that I’m back in touch. I must have talked to a hundred people in detail along the way (you know how chatty I am), and I was smart enough to ask for business cards.

I could go on, but I won’t. I am in deeply touched by letters like this one, from a journalist who will soon slice, dice and spice the material I gave him – or even do a brief synopsis like Private Kenneth did. Then he’ll start handing it out or even placing it at the kind of place where I met him (no fair telling).

Keep spreading the word. Once more unto the breech! The defenses of Jericho are crumbling because of all the racket you’re raising! Start spreading the word for our allied commands to start calling media and government at any level. We’re mad as hell, and we’re not going to take this anymore! (Go ahead, roll down the window and let ‘er rip!)

Start distributing my daily bulletins (or summaries in any form) to all allies. Give ‘em my stuff direct or make it up the way you want. Hell, I’ve got rappers and taggers getting the message out across Texas, porque yo puedo hablar español con mis amigos de RYSS! (I know that all sounds hip, y’all, which I ain’t, but which they definitely is.) These Mexican brothers are so cool that they call themselves niggas (which I do too, cause that’s how the black folks around my house treat me, and I’m proud of it). This Revolution stuff is a brown/white/black thang. Understand?

Summon the most disreputable people you know and tell them that Captain May sez: We need a ten-dollar minimum wage! We need rich white boys in the draft any time we go to war! Mary Jane should be allowed to visit in our homes or bars, same as in Vancouver, Amsterdam and Taos!

Tell ‘em I know about Taos because I took my new bride there on a two-seater bicycle on the way from the Gulf of Mexico to the Grand Canyon, just to have fun. Tell ‘em Mrs. May has seen me threaten to break the bones of three impudent men in front of a Baptist Church recently. I told ‘em to pick which bones I would break, then showed them my hands, and they began to shake, so I spared ‘em for Jesus’ sake. Tell ‘em I’m the kind of crazy man who will do anything, even raise hell for justice for the common man, woman and child. Tell ‘em I call everyone sir or ma’am, no matter what their age, and that when I go to cafés I spend my time practicing mi español with the folks who bus the tables while white pretends not to notice brown. Tell ‘em I think that Mexicans today get treated as bad as blacks did – and still do – in the United States of America. Tell ‘em that Captain May is the crazy motherfucker who said, did, and believes all this. Tell ‘em all that and damned if five million new voters won’t vote in the next election! Are you telling me that’s not revolutionary?

Captain May

PS: You go ahead and think about it. I’ll light up a smoke and groove some more. It’s definitely time for some Hendrix. I hear my train a comin’.

Ghost Troop Home Page April Fools Part 3