Flatoutbozo

…when I was a child, I had a fever….

By way of introduction

    Some considerable time ago, in his early career, Robin Williams was on stage setting up the premise of a soon to be delivered soliloquy.  The main character in his story was a homeless man perhaps best described as: Disturbed. Doolally. Meshugga. Whacko. A non sequitur.  Being the consummate & rapid-fire wordsmith, Mr. Williams did in fact use myriad other adjectives to describe his protagonist.  But the one synonym that resonated most of all was, “flat out bozo”.  I laughed until I laughed some more.  Then, I laughed again.  Its simplicity was – and is – universally tailored to so many human conditions which afflict any person, in any direction, that one would choose to look.  Perhaps most befitted of this moniker would potentially be none other than yours truly.  And so, I’ve adopted, (even plagiarized if you wish), this title as my own personal, self affixing, lapel sticker.  Hello; my name is Flatoutbozo

     I am surely schizoid in my outward view as I revel in the mania of humankind, and yet suffer no fools.  Constantly amazed at the endless and inexhaustible parade of self ingratiated mouth breathers whose sense of personal entitlement is ever lifted to new heights, I certainly find no comfort in the centre-shot blow that they deliver to my downward spiraling faith in the species. 

     Tentatively, and once upon a time, Darwin may have been correct.  But, within the mathematical cascade of ‘tocs’ that relentlessly pursue the monotony of ‘tics’, I feel that the paradigm shift in our social fabric, demands consideration that Herbert Marshall McLuhan was likely the most correct of all scientists and philosophers whose inward gaze reveals some very acidic truths about we – who Tiger and Fox once described as – “The Imperial Animal”.

    In my series of commentaries – or rants if you like – I want to put forth some observations from my immediate world.  And I suspect that you may grin a sly grin signifying that you know someone in your world who reflects what I have seen in mine.  The horror here is the grand potential that you will.

     I have no intent to become the Tommy-esque embodiment wherein I use this media exclusively to, “pick my nose, and smile, and poke my tongue at everything”.  But there is so much to use as an example of what is highly suspect, and such rarity in so-called “good news”.  I would hold up the fine example, while questioning – and holding to account – what has become the “norm”.  I humbly submit: All is not lost, but it is cold, shivering, and dying in the morass of what we are becoming.