I'd Give it an Eleven or Twelve if possible!

Rating: 10/10 (7 November 2006)

Just in case any audience I may be attracting at least suspects, by now, that someone ought to be preparing a looney bin for me, please try to have, as well, if you will but consider being nearly so very kind in the process, not only some good, old-fashioned "teas," and plenty of Beethoven, but also Jack Nicholson, and the Chief, plus Billy and the gang, including, of course, sweet little Candyand the great Scatman Crothers! . . . But Nurse Ratched? Perhaps, on second thought, there may just be some real use for some Thorazine!Although that mindlessly air-headed bimbo who assisted her probably doesn't need any! But that much-too-typical kind of aberration, who couldn't answer Randle Patrick McMurphy's question about the dirty laundry, may be still another issue entirely! . . . He's about the same kind of being who called me the Devil, and tossed me out callously on my ear, from a fundamentalist denomination, one barren night, six years ago, when I'd felt desperate enough to turn even to the "likes" of their kind, again; and all that, simply because he couldn't handle the truththat I Corinthians 9 does speak, among other related things, aboutmoney! . . . Good Lord, it's "almost" enough to drive even me back to the Mother of my Roots, despite an "allergy" about as "violent" as Damien's! And I suppose that, given how completely so many things have been symbolically, ever-mystifyingly, and just as cleverly turned back over, entirely on their heads, including the world itself (Acts 17:6), you by now have all the "real evidence" you need, right there alone, against me! . . . But, then, just check it out yourselves, if you don't know it alreadyfor at least the one is openly calling the other "The Devil," too; which would alone serve to "embarrassingly" necessitate, and, thus, all-the-more-solidly reinforce the most basically mutual feelings here!Which is all-the-more warranted, even by the likes of these two, against one-another, "merely" quite symbolically due to how "highly doubtful," to say the very least, it is that either of these two "Judas Goats" (and they both ought to know!) shall soon be burying Billy on Holy Ground, while the Chief is being hunted down like a dog, by the dogs, with shoot-on-sight-to-kill orders, no questions asked! . . . On the other hand, though, Tony Curtis did one of the cleverest Public Service Announcements I've ever been told about, many years ago, at least for as long as it had been permitted to remain on the air. He simply said, with that little pause, in the middle, and an accompanying "twinkle" in his eye, "I don't smokecigarettesthat is!" It's a real wonder they haven't gone witch-hunting, by now, after cigars and pipes, too!Or, have they, after-all?For, again, after-all, at least which one, if not both, could possibly have been meant? . . . By the way, I don't require any behavior modification; that is, unless, of course, your real intent is, after-all, to turn me into what Malcolm McDowell had originally been, and finally become, once again!About as radically as such a procedure would have to be accomplished at all in my case! And I'm only beginning to "touch up" this particular painting, along with the last one, and so many others!--Unless somebody is at least nice enough to even--let melet-alone tell meperhaps even the way they did Barry Champlain--once he'd so eloquently and unbearably unmasked all of them completely--to flake off! . . . In the Spirit of Elijah (although you can just as easily call me Constantine, too, violent cough and all, in the very middle of this Religiously All-Encompassing Matrix!--At least until you soon have the closest thing to a Bruce Almighty on your hands!--Never-mind even the Incredibly Indestructible Hulk!), Richard O'Donnell