Archive for April 8th, 2011

First of all – SORRY I WAS ABSENT HERE FOR SO LONG!  To say that I’ve been freaking busy is an understatement.   But now, for better or worse, I’m back.

So anyway you know I’m a swashbuckler at heart.   I mean, I fence epee, I write about action heroes, my childhood hero was Sheena Queen of the Jungle.   And of course, the all-time writer of overblown swashbucklers was Alexander Dumas.   As in The Three Musketeers, The Man in the Iron Mask, and the ultimate revenge novel, The Count of Monte Cristo.

Revenge ain’t supposed to be good.  Even at the end of Monte Cristo the hero is given a lecture by the love of his life about forgiving instead of destroying the evil rat bastards who had destroyed him.   The Count got his revenge, but the price he had to pay was to lose the woman he loved.   That’s supposed to be the uplifting moral of the story.

Oh please.

I LOVED how he got revenge.   Dumas built a fascinating, elaborate plot of a carefully constructed revenge (dumbed down beyond all recognition in the 2002 movie, which you should avoid).   One by one the hero destroys his enemies by playing to their badness or revealing publicly and anonymously their evil acts.   As Martha Stewart would say, it’s a good thing.   Evil should be stopped and punished, right?   And anyone who thinks that means resorting to our legal system (it sure as hell ain’t a justice system) is a super naïve babe in the woods.

And all this talk brings me to….

My own revenge fantasies.

And you have got to be a superhuman saint if you’ve never had any yourself.

I had my own darkest ones after 9/11, but that’s really too dark to talk about.   Then there’s what I want to do with the CEO’s and other criminal executives of Goldman Sachs, Bank of America, Wells Fargo…  Oh, the list just goes on and on these days, doesn’t it?    But more realistically…

I want revenge on my neighbors.

These are the same neighbors who every few months have LOUD parties that wake me up at 2:30 a.m. and I can’t go back to sleep and the next day I’m dragging and feel like crap.   Sure, I once called the police.  So have other people on the block, who have also had talks with them.   That’s just enough to make the miscreant nitwits quiet down for a few months.   But then once again they have friends over and they all LOUDLY get going at 2:30 a.m.

You know, there really must be a deep, abiding, visceral joy to be had in throwing a brick through a window in the house of such a neighbor.   More practical would be putting a skunk in the back yard where they’re partying, or into their house where the music and screaming (and I mean SCREAMING) are taking place.   But getting a hold of a skunk without getting sprayed and putting it in a place where it will spray ain’t easy.   I know ‘cause I’ve checked.

So today I’m asking that if any of you just happen to have a  dandy recipe for a stink bomb, I’d be ever so grateful if you passed it on to me.   I promise to put it to good use.