An open letter to ECH

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Dear Piltdown Man,

I have watched your "progress", as it were, with great interest.  You rose from humble beginnings on some fly-speck island in the Caribbean, to pizza dude, to chef, to chef on some shadowy DARPA vessel, doing shadowy things in shadowy places.  Then suddenly, you were on dry land again.

And why is that?  Oh, sure, we've heard the story...Your company lost its funding, and more or less dissolved.  Any crackhead that believes that DARPA closes out funding, of course, has never heard of the Sergeant York anti-aircraft platform.  No, it is my position that you were moved to further their nefarious influence, and that is the only explanation for your presence in Seattle, the city you swore to kill.

It's this sort of transparent deception that is driving us all to bad drugs and irresponsible firearm use, ECH.

What horrible excesses are being dreamed up in that low-brow cranium of yours?  What unmitigated cruelties are being formulated in that rancid little cinder that passes for your heart?  I am quite sure that I do not want to know.  It's bad enough that we have confused and geographically-challenged Chechens blowing up Boston like it was Moscow.  It is bad enough that Texas blows up for no good reason.  The last thing this disaster-weary nation needs is some mutant australopithecus running loose in the Northwest, throwing old ladies in front of buses and hipsters into trash-mashers.

Wait, scratch that last one, nobody cares about the hipsters.

Look, the obvious place for you to be right now is back on the East coast.  Maine, maybe, or New Hampshire, where the locals NEED spooking.  Washington state isn't ready for your sort of belligerant and drug-fueled nonsense; they'll go all to pieces.  New Hampshire's license plates say everything you need to know about them.  "Live Free or Die", they say, and I humbly suggest that it is time to test that resolve, in the form of some over-sized mongoloid stomping down Main Street wearing nothing but a cigar and a GRIN, beating the mortal shit out of random pay'buckers.

Can you imagine the reaction, ECH?  Can you picture the horror on their faces, women throwing husbands out of their beds, and those men forever after questioning their own manhood?  The smoking crater of New Hampshire will NOT be missed.  Hell, they really aren't a proper state in the first place.  It's more like the world's largest gated community.  They deserve it.  The puny hipsters and pathetic aging grunge-rockers in Seattle are unworthy of your efforts.

Of course, this all assumes that you have the freedom to go where you please, as opposed to being some sort of sordid DARPA agent, hell-bent on shoving us all in FEMA camps and/or flouridating us for no good reason.  I'm not saying that's what you ARE, but given the circumstances, you'll understand if that very thought had crossed my mind.

But enough of this paranoia.  I know full well that it is only the pills talking, and that you are indeed a fine, upstanding member of the community who only wants to help.  Still, I have taken the precaution of sending certain notebooks to Alex Jones and Art Bell, and if anything happens to me, the TRUTH will come out, and you and your shadowy accomplices will flee the light like stunned cockroaches.

Shit, there I go again.  In any case, when you finish whatever it is that you are doing up there, DO NOT HEAD SOUTH.  We don't like your kind down here, or so I am reliably told by my Calvinist HOA representative, over bad whiskey in the back yard.  He had all kinds of things to say about terrorists, but I've had enough of this sort of bullshit over the last week, so I punched him in the gizzard and felt crazy.

Yours in Perpetual Froth,
The Good Reverend Roger

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

I have this image of ECH as a naked HULK, waving an over-sized whiskey bottle like a club as he stomps down Main Street, New Hampshire, puffing away on a cigar and correcting cooking myths as he goes.

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

I just keep flashing on that avatar he used to have, the one with the knife.

[LMNO]

That was nothing less than a Thing of Beauty.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

That was nothing less than a Thing of Beauty.

I'm in the mood to write, but LOBB just ain't there, and I'm not going to push it...It's too close to the end for me to fuck it up now.

[Richter]

This should be a lesson to us all.  If Balls Wellington has failed in any given regard havent we in fact faoled ourselves?

How often have we all shown the pink crowds the leering rictus of madness, inhaled the smog like a fime cigar, and belched out some lunatic madness?

Im sick of typing om a tablet  WHERES MY BEER?

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

The truth is, Roger, that ECH was sent to Seattle to hold it down, because it's in danger of tearing loose and joining Tucson.

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

The truth is, Roger, that ECH was sent to Seattle to hold it down, because it's in danger of tearing loose and joining Tucson.

That would explain the bridges making all that noise . . . tethers pulled tight get creaky.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

The truth is, Roger, that ECH was sent to Seattle to hold it down, because it's in danger of tearing loose and joining Tucson.

Ew.

[East Coast Hustle]

Pshh.

I'm not in Seattle. Seattle, for one goddamn thing, is WAY THE FUCK too big for its fucking britches, and for another thing it doesn't need or deserve my particular brand of "civic improvement".

No, I'm in goddamned Everett, where there's still enough weird to choke an orca and I can swing both fists without hitting a goddamned cruise ship passenger.

[East Coast Hustle]

Everett.

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

Isn't Seattle ground zero for hipsters anyway?

Everett looks like it could be awesome...IF they haven't forgotten.

[East Coast Hustle]

Not really, anymore. All the new young hipsters go to Portland or Austin or Brooklyn. Seattle is full of people who were hipsters 10+ years ago and desperately want to remind you of how REALLY REALLY COOL they used to be.

Seriously, it's taken me a few months but I've realized that I can't stand most of my old friends out here, mostly because they haven't changed a bit since I was hanging out with them 15 years ago. There's only so much I can take of "dude, remember that time we....?" followed by some idiotic reminiscence of some time we were wasted in high school before I snap and just tear someone's lips off.

[East Coast Hustle]

However, there's 4 million assholes here, so it's not THAT hard to find the occasional asshole that I get along with. And really, this place is all about the diversity of environments and the scenery. Fuck people.

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

Not really, anymore. All the new young hipsters go to Portland or Austin or Brooklyn. Seattle is full of people who were hipsters 10+ years ago and desperately want to remind you of how REALLY REALLY COOL they used to be.

Please tell them Austin will eat their souls or something. Seriously, nobody wants any more.

Seriously, it's taken me a few months but I've realized that I can't stand most of my old friends out here, mostly because they haven't changed a bit since I was hanging out with them 15 years ago. There's only so much I can take of "dude, remember that time we....?" followed by some idiotic reminiscence of some time we were wasted in high school before I snap and just tear someone's lips off.

Going home taught me that the surviving people I thought I missed, never DID anything since high school and the peak experience of their LIVES was smoking and drinking rotgut wine behind the gym. I don't go home any more.