Within the compass of this post to the Leonard Cohen Files, I can do no more than indicate, as concisely as I can, relevant considerations that must be taken into account if we are to discuss Mrs. M Waldman's invidious, abysmal magic-bullet explanations in a rational manner. Here's my side of the story: I wonder what would happen if Mrs. Waldman really did introduce more restrictions on our already dwindling freedoms. There's a spooky thought. But if you have been following her ersatz Mornington Crescent thread you will understand!
I personally despise everything about Mrs. Waldman and her little cohort FOXWOOD. I despise Mrs. Waldman's attempts to precipitate riots. I despise how she insists that ill-tempered scapegraces should be given absolute authority to fan the flames of ultraism into a planet-spanning inferno. Most of all, I despise her complete obliviousness to the fact that she claims to be supportive of my plan to halt the adulation heaped upon the most cynical egotists you'll ever see. Don't trust her, though; she's a wolf in sheep's clothing. Before you know it, she'll spread rumors, gossip, and stories that are indisputably false. Not only that, but Mrs. Waldman's legatees suspect that everything will be hunky-dory if we let Mrs. Waldman sell quack pharmaceutical supplies (and you should be suspicious whenever you hear such telltale words and phrases as "breakthrough", "miracle", "secret remedy", "exclusive", and "clinical studies prove that…"). Sorry, guys, but the inconvenient truth is that as soon as Mrs. Waldman found the resources to do so she lost no time in causing people to betray one another and hate one another. The inevitable followed: Ruthless, thrasonical quacks started feeding information from sources inside the government to organizations with particularly fatuitous agendas. The scariest part of all of this is that I wouldn't judge Mrs. Waldman's understrappers too harshly. They're just cannon fodder for Mrs. Waldman's plot to glamorize drug usage.
With Mrs. Waldman so forcefully fabricating all sorts of deplorable, ad hoc rules and regulations, things are starting to come to a head,and we are not talking Chelsea Hotel here!. That's why we must give her a rhadamanthine warning not to cripple her castigators politically, economically, socially, morally, and psychologically. There's a little-known truth that isn't readily acknowledged by myopic, hateful gilly-gaupuses: If this letter did nothing else but serve as a beacon of truth, it would be worthy of reading by all right-thinking people. However, this letter's role is much greater than just to preach a message of community and brotherly love.
Although Mrs. Waldman has repeatedly denied charges of attempting to label everyone she doesn't like as a racist, sexist, fascist, communist, or some equally terrible "-ist", she is far more interested in fattening herself on the various processes of decay in our society than she is in helping us ring the bells of truth. Mrs. Waldman vehemently denies that, of course. But she obviously would because her commentaries are completely meaningless. That is, they usually begin by saying something about how she was chosen by God as the trustee of His wishes and desires, and then they continue on with a random assortment of tacked-on phrases until they finally slam into a period. Mrs. Waldman's commentaries would be a lot clearer if Mrs. Waldman simply came out and said that if the only way to grant people the freedom to pursue any endeavor they deem fitting to their skills, talent, and interest is for me to develop a subconscious death wish, then so be it. It would decidedly be worth it because Mrs. Waldman keeps saying that hanging out with acrimonious grafters is a wonderful, culturally enriching experience. I suggest taking such statements with a grain of salt because if society were a beer bottle—something, I believe, that Mrs. Waldman holds in high regard—she would indeed be the nauseating bit at the bottom that only the homeless like to drink.
It's really not bloody-mindedness that compels me to institute change. It's my sense of responsibility to you, the reader. In general, Mrs. Waldman worships her own ignorance. Shwe thinks Jazz Police is "Lennie's Ultimate"! Oh, please!Sure, there are exceptions, but it's our responsibility to treat the blows of circumstance. That's the first step in exposing false prophets who preach that we can all live together happily without laws, like the members of some 1960s-style dope-smoking commune, and it's the only way to denounce those who claim that her short-sighted terrorist organization is a benign and charitable agency.
Mrs. Waldman has been trying to trick people into believing that she values our perspectives. Apparently, she has succeeded beyond her wildest dreams with hypocritical malcontents; they're now fully convinced that the cure for evil is more evil. Her scare tactics are just a rhetorical ploy to get away from the obvious fact that she holds onto power like the eunuch mandarins of the Forbidden City—sterile obstacles to progress who fill our children's minds with phlegmatic and debasing superstitions. Mrs. Waldman seems to have recently added the word "histomorphologically" to her otherwise simplistic vocabulary. She has used it 3 times in the dread Mornington thread. I suppose she intends to use big words like that to obscure the fact that in the coming days, she will order her jackals to rob from the rich but—unlike Robin Hood—give to obtuse, bestial deadbeats. Let me try to explain what I mean by that in a single sentence: The irony is that her most haughty politics are also her most wretched. As the French say, "Les extremes se touchent." What shall we do? We have several options. We might deal with Mrs. Waldman appropriately. We might scrap the entire constellation of uneducated ideas that brought us to our present point. Or, we might guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by Mrs. Waldman and her totalism movement. Any of these options, I insist, are acceptable. Still, we must choose one of them or else Mrs. Waldman will insult my intelligence some day.
Mrs. Waldman wants to place our children at imminent risk of serious harm. That's clearly a formula for repression and resentment and will lead to her doing everything possible to keep sullen bigamists meretricious and uncompanionable by the end of the decade. Her belief that she has a close-to-perfect existence that's the envy of the foul-mouthed, uncongenial four-flushers around her is pure and total fantasy for a variety of reasons. For instance, her cold, analytical approach to escapism doesn't take into account the human element. In particular, those who have been hurt by escapism know that if we take Mrs. Waldman's criticisms to their logical conclusion, we see that quicker than you can double-check the spelling of "labyrinthibranchiate", Mrs. Waldman will retard the free and natural economic development of various countries' indigenous population.
Alas, some day, in the far, far future, Mrs. Waldman will realize that her shenanigans are merely a fig leaf that hides her efforts to produce a large number of thoroughly antihumanist extravagancies, most dastardly indecencies, and, above all, the most oleaginous blasphemies against everything that I hold most sacred and most dear. This realization will sink in slowly but surely and will be accompanied by a comprehension of how Mrs. Waldman is guilty of at least one criminal offense. In addition, she frequently exhibits less formal criminal behavior such as deliberate and even gleeful cruelty, explosive behavior, and a burning desire to operate in the gray area between legitimate activity and reckless, fork-tongued miserabilism. She will hate me for saying this, but virulent, inimical thieves like Mrs. Waldman are not born—they are excreted. However unsavory that metaphor may be, if Mrs. Waldman opened her eyes, she'd realize that her hijinks are so confused that they are easily taken up and assimilated by hate-filled dolts, whose intellectual level corresponds to the material offered. It has been said that her antisocial antics offer only false hopes. I believe that to be true. I also believe that Mrs. Waldman is like a giant octopus sprawling its slimy length over city, state, and nation. Like the octopus of real life, she operates under cover of self-created screen. Mrs. Waldman seizes in her long and powerful tentacles our executive officers, our legislative bodies, our schools, our courts, our newspapers, and every agency created for the public protection.
If my memory serves me correctly, an understanding of the damage that may be caused by Mrs. Waldman's self-pitying, headlong perceptions isn't something I expect everyone to develop the first time they hear about it. I would trust Anjani more on that. That's why I write over and over again and from so many different angles about how Mrs. Waldman has been trying for quite some time to convince us that space gods arriving in flying saucers will save humanity from self-destruction. I suggest she take this rotting ordure and dump it where she and her fellow ridiculous defalcators congregate. At least then we could restore the traditions that she has abandoned without having to worry that she will produce precisely the alienation and conflict needed to make mountains out of molehills. While Mrs. Waldman insists that the rest of us are an inferior group of people, fit only to be enslaved, beaten, and butchered at the whim of our betters, reality dictates otherwise. Actually, if you want a real dose of reality, look at how Mrs. Waldman's recommendations are continually evolving into more and more depraved incarnations. Here, I'm not just talking about evolution in a simply Darwinist sense; I'm also talking about how Mrs. Waldman says that her metanarratives are Right with a capital R. As usual, she can be counted on to wrap every actual fact in six layers of embellishment. The truth is that I'm willing to accept that one could argue that I'm oversimplifying things a little here. I'm even willing to accept that the vastly inflated humanitarian forecasts of her theories are unrecognizable when compared to their inevitable outcome. But she has a natural talent for complaining. She can find any aspect of life and whine about it for hours upon hours.
If Mrs. Waldman's op-ed pieces aren't temerarious, I don't know what is. Mrs. Waldman is putting a huge amount of effort into squashing her self-doubt and hiding her flaws. The more effort she puts into that, the worse things are when these suppressed traits finally bust out. When that happens—and it will surely happen—you should be sure to remember that of all of Mrs. Waldman's exaggerations and incorrect comparisons, one in particular stands out: "Mrs. Waldman is an irreplaceable shaman who can cure the sick, divine the hidden, and control events." I don't know where she came up with this, but her statement is dead wrong. Someone just showed me a memo supposedly written by Mrs. Waldman. The memo spells out her plans to manipulate the public like a puppet dangling from strings. If this memo is authentic, it tells us that Mrs. Waldman claims that the Queen of England heads up the international drug cartel. That claim is preposterous and, to use Mrs. Waldman's own language, overtly witless. No history can justify it. Finally, it is not at all unlikely that in this letter I have said some things to which many of my readers may take exception. It has not been any part of my purpose either to please or to displease anybody but simply to tell the truth and to say, so far as I have given expression to my views, precisely what I think. And what I think is this: Mrs. M Waldman's faithfuls have been arrested in numerous murders, violent assaults, and bank robberies across the nation. Does the name Kelly Lynch ring any bells at all?