Copy of email from Michael sending me a copy of the email from Adrienne sent to him when she was in Toronto. Adrienne is the professor that had control of Michael's investment portfolio and him.
This email was sent to me on at 15.29 on the 24th of June 2008.
As I recall the old Bob Dylan song, THE TIMES, THEY ARE CHANGING, . . .
there's a particular line :
'There's a battle outside,
And it's raging.'
Quite true -- always -- in these environs.
And for better or worse -- regardless of whether I want the job -- I AM the
Officer Commanding.
Not JUST the OC, . . . but also the Last Defender.
Several years ago, when Adrienne was still in Toronto, she wrote to me the following :
____________________________
____________________________
Michael Surrounded
Surrounded
And outnumbered.
Out of ammunition.
Beyond hope, but
Without hesitation.
Morale undiminished.
Resolve unshaken.
Like a bell
Your voice
Rings out
The order,
In staccato:
'Fix bay-o-nets!'
In only twenty-eight words, THAT, Michael, is why the slimy statesiders don't
deserve you, and why it grieves me to see you que up for the yard apes of
Cobb who are unworthy of you.
You are like the finest gold. Don't permit yourself to be shaken by those
too foolish to know the difference between you and their kind which, by
comparison, is like a worthless stone.
Remember the summer of 00 in Toronto when I sang 'Soldiers of the Night,' and
at the end, those in the crowd yelled for more?
Into the microphone I answered, 'There's only one.'
Nothing has changed, Michael. Nothing.
I too loved Gert, as did Nina from whom I learnt, long ago, that Gert was
amongst the last in a line of heroes.
I remember how you would always smile, with your shining, china bright eyes
of soft brown, as you recalled how Nina would say, 'The others like Gert all
died at the Alamo.'
You know the truth of it, Michael. You know that I too love Gert. Enough so
that I say now, you do her no service if you permit yourself to be trampled
by the slimy statesiders in that cruel caricature known as Cobb.
Be the custodian of her dreams, Michael. Uphold her life proudly, like a banner.
Rain down hell upon the world of those who stood against her. Cripple that
vile kingdom. Rack the regime. Wreak havoc with those whom you yourself have
called 'its plenipotentiary lie-masters and their minions.' Make Cobb choke
upon the vomit of its own self-righteousness and hypocrisy. Then dissect and
analyze, cremate and bury. Take no chances with degenerates of their kind.
Such a good heart you have, Michael. Such a great heart. But you share no
common ground with the slimy statesiders. The difference, between you and them,
is like that between an elephant and an ant. Only greater. Infinitely
greater.
Remember who and what you are. The same soldier of the night. The one who
never quits. That is your gift and your strength. It's the very core of your
uniqueness. The definition of your existence.
Never yield to the 'birth defect' of having been sired in so backward a
place. A place where, if you spoke of 'dignity,' the reply would be, 'Dig
what?
Who's a-been a-diggin?' A place where, if a 'dictionary' were mentioned, the
response would be, 'Who is that Dick Shinnery feller? Is-a he-a from-a
round-a hey-year? How come y'all peoples thinks them Shinnerys knows ever'tang? Why
is them Shinnerys spost ta bees so smart?'
Never let that misfortune claim you. Defy the Cobb vermin. Roll forward,
crushing in your path those homophobic, hominoid moles who are offended by the
existence of mountain heights. Those dirt dwellers of Cobb have only the
courage to crawl. Like yard apes: simian sons-in-law who have forgotten how
to climb, assuming that they ever knew. They are no match for you, and no match
for me. We are rock spiders who, unlike the slimy statesiders and yard apes of
Cobb, hold our ground. When attacked, we defend ourselves.
Be what you are: A brilliant and dangerously, singularly attractive warrior.
Why dangerous?
Because unlike the cowardly yard apes of Cobb who lord over the powerless and
bully the elderly, you walk into storms and play with thunder.
Why singularly attractive?
Because you are the lightening.
Strike, Michael. Strike down the world of the yard apes.
Give those tyrants and their animated garbage an object lesson. The quick
silver. The might of the bitteriender. Something they've never been up
against before. Rock spiders who are capable of things never dreamt within the
pathological caricature otherwise known as Cobb.
Remember, I'm with you, watching your back and guarding your flank. Close
your eyes and see me. Standing with you. Fighting alongside you. Your own
bokkie pilot, sailing on a silver plane.
And when the lumpen proletariat is vanquished from that foul place, and when
its human sewers collapse upon those there who are themselves without claim to
humanity, I ask only this. Give me the honour then of standing once more
beside you. With your eyes open then, see me there at your side.
~A
Adrienne, Michael vowed that if he went down he would take you all with him.
That includes you Adrienne. Did you make sure that he had access to his own money? No, because if you had he would still be alive today and his services would not have been continually cut off. You left him without his own money to buy food Adrienne.
Michael told me how you had eradicated all of his government records. You do know that is a crime don't you Adrienne?
Time to face the music Adrienne.
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