FLAGS REMAIN AT HALF STAFF
Official Period of Mourning Ends

(March 12, NY, NY) We have not been here for awhile. Our absence was circumstance driven initially, intentional thereafter. The Brooding Cynyx suffered a great loss last week when one of our own, actually, the original driving force who established are “Mission” passed away on the third of March. He had taken a terrible fall down a flight of stairs on February 16, was admitted to the Critical Care Unit and never left the building alive.

In the wake of his death, the Cynyx, collectively, decided to cease posting for a period of mourning. Out of respect for our newly deceased Cynyc Emeritus, we felt it would be inappropriate to engage in our usual activities, the time and efforts associated with bringing our loyal readers the quality of news, commentary, satire and observations that you have come to expect and most certainly deserve.

Yes, some said that our Emeritus would not have wanted us to cease posting. After all, it was by his mandate we began doing that which we do. However, the profound nature of the loss warranted a powerful gesture here, on this blog, to mark his passing.

His unremarkable death belied his remarkable life. Among many accomplishments of a Marine Corps veteran, a blue collar worker, husband, father and friend were the things he gave to so many. By example he taught; he taught all those things that no school could ever begin to teach. He taught the intangibles and he taught them well.

He taught a full advanced curriculum in character, integrity, honesty and strength. The core courses included powerful lessons about sacrifice, tolerance, patience and humility. By his living example the education he provided was on-going until he expired that one last time and the cardiac monitor went monotone. Pride and dignity were demonstrated daily in his life and most certainly in his death: A Marine to the end. The lessons he learned as a 19 year old on Parris Island added to the inherent traits and strengths his by birth, by time and place.

Possessed of a child like faith of the highest order, parts of his life were more than tests of that faith. If there ever was the proverbial “hard luck guy”, it was him. But, despite circumstances and choices, playing a poorly dealt hand, he was also an original “Stand Up Guy”. He carried his load with a quiet strength and grace that put him in a class of his own. If he had a temper, it was so rarely in evidence that one could be forgiven for seeing him as passive. That would have been an error. He was anything but passive; his “uncommon valor” was his most remarkable virtue.

He and his generation have received their due justice in recent years thanks to popular books and films depicting the major events from the Great depression, World War II through the sixties and seventies. He was part of it all, one among millions yet, recognized for his uniqueness even by his peers.

He passed quietly into what lies beyond. He stepped lightly along that ill defined line until he felt the time was right. Called home, released from his earthly burdens, he will always remain.

We lost one of our own this week. Without going into to much detail, we lost a good man this week. A man with faults just like the rest of us, a man who did what he could to provide for his family. He did not discover any great cure, or a new planet or invent a new machine to make him millions, he was just a man. A man who cared for his son, a man who was a provider for his wife for more than fifty years, he was just a man. A man who raised kids, who put some of those kids through college, who are now, doctors, who might discover the cure, he was just a man. A man who served his country, his community, his family, he was just a man. Tread lightly Marine and thank you for just being a man.

Obama and Mrs. Bill Clinton please, keep the game going. Between them they have about five minutes of experience working in government. The only thing these two are good at is shady land deals, and dealing with scumbag fund raisers. Where else but the Democrat primary can you be loosing and call yourself the front runner, or what other party can you promise change, and not know what your going to change, let alone how to change it or what your going to change it to?

I sure am glad the Pennsylvania primary is a month away because this perversion of the process has to continue. This is better than watching a Comedy Central combined with the Spice channel marathon. I have seen more "Three Stooges" slapping and more anal exploration between Obama and Clinton in the last few weeks, more than Mr. Bill Clinton could have dreamed up with a five dollar hooker, a fat intern and a El Producto Blunt, and one of these idiots is going to have a chance at the most powerful office in the world. God help us.

(March 6, NYC) Everyone probably feels the same level of emotion when they think of their Dad. We can all recall images from our past, summon up glimpses of our youth, and recollect the countless gestures of kindness, patience and plain old love. Dad died the other day.

He was sent off yesterday with a Mass in the church were so much of his life, and ours, was the site of milestones. Baptisms, Communions, Confirmations; all the rituals of Roman Catholicism that were ours by birth. The pews in that fine old house of worship had provided refuge and respite for our family, friends and neighbors for almost a century.


It is a bit odd to consider that this proud, quiet man lived his 76 years within a radius of under 10 miles. Aside from his years in the Marine Corps, the streets he played on as a child were the very same as those he walked just weeks before his death.


Death often comes like a thief in the night; it did not for him. His was a death that was a bit protracted, not measured in agonizing months but rather as days that elongated and warped, trudged into weeks that felt like years. It would be easy to read too much into his last weeks; such a hospital scenario lends itself far too readily to hyperbole. There was a dramatic component to it all that went beyond the clinical realities that kept his trapped in a body that was failing. Could he hear? Did he experience pain? Was he aware that we were there?

Each of us began the trip home from a far flung location. We had all scattered when we came of age for reasons and circumstances partially chosen, and somewhat seemingly pre-ordained. Miles and years evolve into distance, distance that is measurable and infinite at the same time. He began his final journey very near where it had all begun. That was not a bad thing. There is something to be said for that kind of consistency, that level of comfortability and acceptance of self and life.

There were times in the past when we thought they should move, Mom and Dad could not still be there? Yet, they remained while that neighborhood rode the varied waves of change, good and bad, up and down. They were witness to generations born, grown and moved; where they, and they alone, had outlived lived all our original neighbors. It was from this place our lives were shaped and we are as much a part of it as was he.

That place remains and will for a longer time than we can imagine now. It will change for good and bad and see the comings and goings of more generations. But, for the first time in nearly 80 years it will forever be altered, not noticeably, not dramatically. His absence will change the place and all those who live there now and those who will come to live there never knowing who he was.

At least we, all of us, knew him and for that, we have been blessed beyond measure.

Be well, Dad.

Walk gently home to see those you have missed for so long. They have been waiting.

BUSH WANTED LUNAR ECLIPSE SHOT AT ALSO

(Feb. 20, Washington, DC) Tonight in the Pacific Ocean, west of the Hawaiian Island, the USS Lake Erie will launch a specially modified missile in an effort to blow up a satellite that is falling to earth. The United States spy satellite has been dysfunctional since December 2006 and is expected to crash to the earth sometime in March. The decision to blow it up with a missile was made by President George W. Bush who has never, during his tenure as Commander in Chief, passed up an opportunity to blow something up.

Initial projections from NASA, the NSA, CIA and CNN predicted the errant satellite would not pose a threat to earth as its orbital altitude decreases. However, additional computer models indicated the 5000 pound object was falling at a rate of speed upwards of 21, 500 miles per hour. The real threat aboard the satellite is its full tank of frozen, toxic hydrazine propellant. Rear Admiral Gus “Harry” Nevus speaking to reporters at the Pentagon earlier said “Heck, if we were certain it was going to land in New Jersey or Iowa, someplace like that, we’d just let the old girl drop. But, it might hit someplace that matters and then we could have troubles”.

Commander of the guided missile destroyer USS Lake Erie (whose name is classified), charged with executing this challenging task, was interviewed via phone from the bridge of his ship. “I assure you the Staff and Crew of this fine vessel are well prepared and honored to be trusted with this mission. We have no doubt we will succeed. Besides that, even if we do miss, there won’t be any collateral damage”, commented the Annapolis grad. He added, “This mission is about doing good. We are so accustomed to doing bad that the notion of doing good is good. We enjoy launching missiles where ever we are told to. Shooting one into space to prevent a catastrophe on earth, well, that is a noble chore. Frankly, I and my crew are bored with launching missiles at Middle Eastern countries. This will be a nice break. Besides, the President says we get some R & R in Honolulu if we hit the b*tch on the first shot. Believe you me; we need some R & R”.

After meeting with tribal leaders and journeymen warriors in the African nation, Ghana, President Bush visited with the traveling press. He answered a wide variety of questions with incoherent, rambling, fragmented utterings better understood by the tribal leaders then the press. “We can’t have it. That’s as simple as I can say it. My generals and admirals, the folks on the ground around there told me we had to blow this satellite up. I agreed. We can’t have some satellite just smashing into our country…our, er…ah,…planet. I won’t have it. I’m the decider and I decided, let’s blow the f*cker up”. The President then departed for a rhino ride, safari and green monkey hunt. Once atop the rhino, over his shoulder, a smiling Bush yelled to the press, “Hey y’all, they tell me we might be able to see the explosion from here.”

Earlier in the week, Mr. Bush caused some controversy when he announced that he ordered the Navy to shoot missiles at the lunar eclipse which will occur tonight. He made comments while on board Air Force One saying, “That eclipse doesn’t know who it’s dealin’ with. No force or influence can or will interfere with military actions. We are prepared to blast that eclipse out of the sky if we have to but, of course, that is a last resort. We can negotiate but…” Presidential aides cut Mr. Bush off mid sentence and escorted him to a private cabin.

Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved

IT’S THE STORY, NOT THE DEATH
Voyeuristic Element of Infotainment

(Feb. 18, New York, NY) It’s never about a person; it is always about an event. This is an old complaint, a tired observation and commentary on who we are, as a people, when it comes to life. Not the phony arguments about “Life” as posited by the right wing conservatives. (Their hypocrisy is another matter.) Life, as in, that time each human being spends on earth as a sentient, cognizant being fully imbued with all the capabilities, emotions, desires, etc… as we all are. There is a baseline of commonality beyond those that define a species.

The theories and arguments are really not important. Even cancer has an unknown etiology. It’s not about movie and TV violence, violent music lyrics, video games or sports. It is not about somehow being culturally immune to and callous about the loss of human life. Notions like these seem to say that we were somehow victims of some force or forces that somehow mysteriously altered us. We don’t know how, when or where this mystery alteration occurred nor what precisely created it. This entire line of thinking is such a flimsy, cheap, overused, excuse that most people seem to accept it as fact. May there exist some modicum of truth within these arguments? Perhaps. Are there external cultural influences that affect some of us more profoundly than others? Sure. Has our threshold for mayhem, murder and catastrophe been heightened by what we are exposed to in the various media? Most certainly.. But all of these elements have the feel to them that we were victimized. Victimization, such as this would imply, supposes mass susceptibility, negation of logic, reason and emotion on a vast scale that seems inherently implausible.

A female psychiatrist is hacked to death in the “Silk Stocking District”, Manhattan’s Upper East Side, in the 19th Precinct. Five college students are murdered, shot to death, sitting in a geology lecture at Northern Illinois University. The body of a female student is discovered in the desert outside Las Vegas: she had been raped, murdered and her corpse had lain in the badlands for approximately one week prior to discovery. Some distraught teenager shoots up a shopping mall in Omaha. The list goes on and a new list is being generated as this is being written.

During a recent week of events involving the unnatural loss of life, the Newark (NJ) Star Ledger reported that the City of Newark had actually gone 33 days WITHOUT a homicide. Points of reference? The absence of unnatural death was NEWS; news worthy of being reported. What does that indicate, if anything? Everything is relative, right? Certainly it is. Cable news outlets cover a single isolated abduction, murder or other crime with a zest and zeal unabashedly sordid and exploitive. Microphones are thrust into the facing of miners weeping wives as the fate of their husbands trapped underground is uncertain. Witnesses and survivors relate their experiences over and over again as if they are recounting a verified alien abduction. We eat it up. We suck it all in and quickly thirst for more.

There is a “chicken or the egg” component to this phenomenon. Do we drink it all in because it is put in front of us in all its sensationalistic, Technicolor, hi-def, pod-casted digital wizardry or is the media writ large merely satisfying our appetites? Yes, this debate has been on-going since the 1970’s. Perhaps most of the questions that define the issue are rhetorical, they merely serve as prompters for us to take a look at ourselves.

Copyright © 2008 TBC All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2008 BronxWest Consulting