Ghost Troop Home Page April Fools Part 2
Eric,
Go get the book called, The Best Democracy Money Can Buy:
The Truth about Corporate cons, Globalization, and High-Finance Fraudsters by
Greg Palast, published by Plume Books which appears to be an imprint of
Penguin.
This guy writes like you and thinks like you. He publishes in
the
I heard Palast interviewed on
Re: The stuff you sent me...
You are probably the best writer that I know personally. But you are waayyyy too purple and need to
stop it already. Personally, I love the careening, hyperbolic antagonism of it
all. But I have the uncomfortable
feeling that your "over-the-top brio" may be mistaken for
"around-the-bend nuttiness".
(Besides, your specific allegations get lost in the mayhem of it all.)
I think you're very probably correct in everything that you
allege. Unfortunately, letters that
insult potential editors, menace public officials, and generally make you seem
like a really literate Unabomber are going to work AGAINST your interests. You already KNOW that nobody in the media
REALLY wants to publish anything unpleasant. So don't give them the reasons
they need to dismiss you and your thesis out-of-hand. Okay. So having said that, I think you have
two choices. (And remember, this ain't
my field of expertise at all.)
1. Find a publisher, radio station, or political group
willing to give you the resources, credibility, and access you need to do a
proper job of investigative journalism.
You probably won't get it - which is why Greg Palast had to go overseas
to publish.
2. Write a novel using this as a "what if" scenario. Use your bicycle trip as a framing
device. Even if your allegations are not
true, they sound true. If you present it
as fiction, you can posit anything you like, proof or no proof (Think 7 Days In
May by Neville Schute and/or The Manchurian Candidate.) If history proves you wrong as a
geo-political analyst, it doesn't matter.
It was fiction and you proved you're a great writer. If history proves you right, you're an oracle
AND a great writer. Win win. So get to
work. Also...mend your fences at the Chronicle, The Times, etc. You may need them.
Sorry for this poorly spelled and punctuated ramble. Am
trying to work, get a variety of family things done, and generally do 36 hours
worth of work done in every 24 hour period. OY & VEY!
Stay mad and keep me posted!!!
kimbo
Yo, Kimbo!
Thanks for looking things over. It warms my heart to receive some encouragement and advice from an old friend. I still remember the night we met:
You and a friend (a beaux?) met me and Fred Roberts at a coffee shop over, and Fred. It was chummy, and reminds me of the days when my writing career started. You and I met a few times for lunch and I admired you for your canny observations of the publishing biz. I believe you had by then ghosted dozens of novels for the teenage girl market, and we even discussed working up a teen “special ops” team for the masses, a sort of Hardy-boys with black belts and an Army captain/teacher (a la Captain May) as their mentor. Shucks, it’s too bad the thing never clicked, but I’ll tell you what, after I finish my antiwar operations, let’s talk it over. I’m always in the hunt for fun, and working with you is flat-out fun, because you are a beautiful woman.
I know that you’ve always wondered if I had a yin for you. Well, yes and no. I always knew you had better sense than to invite my attentions, and I’ve always respected sense and sensibility (tip of the hat to Jane Austen) in those who could appreciate me as a man and still say “Keep your distance.” You have consistently said this, while consistently giving me as much good advice as I was willing to listen to. I love you Kim, and I love you as a vestal who tends the fire of literacy. It would be a cold world were it not for those, like you, who bear burdens that other shirk, who pick their friends rarely but really, and who would laugh at anyone called them a saint. You are my saint. Go ahead and laugh.
You have carried the burden for your family for
decades. Y’all are way up the scale from
the May’s, but your roots go back to the same Southern Gentry, of which I am a
poor fallen branch. Your
great-great-great grand daddy rode for Forrest’s cavalry, and you inherited his
courage. You have scrambled left, right,
back, forth, up and down to find ways to help the Morris family. You have been the exemplar of duty. You are a good sister to Ramsey, whom I knew
before I knew you. When you think of me
and all my barbarities (which, alas, are many), please remember this in my
favor: I was a friend to her back in the
early 80’s, when she was studying Latin with me, and I never shirked her
because of her pain. I talked with her and
she talked back. I understood her,
because I wanted to understand. Your sister
taught me that back when I was in college and you were having a swell time in
I want Gentle Reader to know how kind a lady you have been to me, and what a shallow cad I have always been in return. You see, I don’t even know if I thanked you for being the only person to give me a gift when I married my hot-tot, black-belt second wife. I’m sure I didn’t thank you for not holding it against me after I did a week in Harris County Jail for fighting her (even though I just took her down with a sweep and held her til she stopped foaming). I’m also sure I’ve never thanked you for being the first person to tell me about alcoholism and me. I’ll never forget the haunting story you told about a man you knew who lost his career, his love, his money…, and if he kept drinking, his mind.
Remind me to tell you the story of how Master Yu convinced me to get help some day.
LYLAB:
Captain May
PS: Oh, the real reason I wrote. I’ve caught you up to current operations with this email. You’re drafted for a scout role for Ghost Troop, 3/7 Cavalry. Folks say girls can’t fight a war, but I say that’s bullshit because Plato says that’s bullshit in the Republic. Infowar is transgender, transcendent and translucent with the brilliance of the light cavalry. Saddle up.