The Babalunians' Fear of Me Is My Strength

I find myself in a most peculiar position in respect to Babalú. I have always engaged them in the open without camouflage or innuendo: honestly and frankly. This, alas, is beyond them. Their "strategy" is to ignore me but they just can't manage to do it. I am always in their thoughts and they are always on this blog. I mean, for hours. Each day. Sometimes I wonder whether they gather in study circles to analyze every word I write, or leastwise to look each up in the dictionary. But although they are fanatically interested in what I have to say about them, they cannot bring themselves to answer me forthrightly. Obviously they fear that they cannot engage me intellectually and are afraid even to try. Val tried once and he's still nursing those wounds. Henry, who has a better estimate of his abilities in respect to mine, has never tried, which I suppose makes him smarter than Val, though I would need an atom-splitter to split those hairs. And then there is Ziva, who has never made a secret of her admiration for my writing, although she is greatly grieved that I should use it to attack her Cuban muse.

Most of all, however, they are afraid of me.

So afraid, indeed, that they do not mention me by name when they allude to me, much less cite the Review of Cuban-American Blogs. They know that to do so would mean the death of Babalú. Every time that someone tells them that he has discovered the RCAB it chills them to the bone. It's like an atomic bomb that floats over heads. They try to ignore it but can't keep their eyes off it. It's OK. I understand.

So when Stuck on the Palmetto engages them in a flame war — and they can't, as they usually do, run away — they direct their feeble guns at me, not Rick or Alex. I have already declared my neutrality in this dispute, having already asserted that it is impossible for me to choose between "The Prince of Darkness" and "The King of Fools," so well-matched in this contest that it may well become another "Hundred Years War" before they call a truce and marry each other's daughters.

Ziva, in her remarks aimed at me, mistakenly classes me with "locals who waste cyberspace bitching, and writing asinine second guessed critiques," etc. I am not a "local," of course. I've never lived in Miamiu and it's been 10 years since I last visited it. Nevertheless, I am Babalú's chief "dissenter," and whenever they address their detractors they inevitably will find their way back to me. Quickly, too. It's called an obsession:

"One ["pigeon'] in particular comes to mind; a very talented Cuban writer and patriot who could/should use said talent to eviscerate the regime we all agree is the enemy. What a waste! Que clase de come mierda, if you are not part of the solution, then you are part of the problem.

Ziva is a faithful reader of this blog and knows that I use my talents to "eviscerate the regime" and still have enough left over to eviscerate Babalú. She knows, too, that I was once a part of their "solution" till Val booted me from Babalú for criticizing Gloria Estefan (respectfully) whom 4 months later Val would allow one of his staff writers to label a "traitor." No, Ziva, I no longer wish to be a part of Babalú's "solution" because it is no solution, just a continuation of the same 48-year problem.

Henry put the brakes to Ziva's enthusiasm. Also quickly. Poor Ziva actually seems to think that as an editorial writer for Babalú she has the right to write about what she wants to write about. No, Ziva, you are not an equal among equals; you are too smart to thus delude yourself. In any case, Val and Henry will bring you down to earth when you try to soar too high, that is, when, your natural instincts threaten the future of hallowed Babalú. So Henry admonished Ziva to "settle down" like a good little doggie: don't turn this into War and Peace. And Henry is right. To publicize what I say about Babalú on Babalú would be the death knell of Babalú. If Ziva ever attempted such a thing, she would be a fifth-columnist, the viper nestling at Val's breast.

Henry, of course, is good at setting others on the high road, but very bad at taking it himself: "I don't think there's enough time to catalog the rantings of a jealous lunatic." Oh, you have time, Henry; you just don't have the talent to refute the "jealous lunatic" and are too afraid to even try. You are far more realistic about your abilities than Ziva is about hers. And you are, again, right.

As for being "jealous" of you, Henry, what is it that I have to be jealous about? I am a better polemist; I am a better writer; I am a better human being; and I don't run away from my opponents muttering incongruencies.

To Ziva's well-trained ear, Henry's wishes are commands. She knows there is no option for her but to capitulate immediately and completely, and she does. Henry is right "of course." It would be War and Peace and there is not "enough time" nor am I "deserving of the effort." So all the hundreds of hours that poor Ziva spent gathering quotes from me on this blog were all for naught. She will not be allowed to use her "ammunition."

And, indeed, why even try? Does anyone doubt how this version of War and Peace would end? Exactly as Tolstoy's novel (and history) did: the retreat would begin before the offensive.

***
Before they delete their own comments and to insure that they won't, I will reproduce the exchange between Ziva and Henry on a post ostensibly about Stuck on the Palmetto:

Oh man, I have been waiting for this. I have a list, a long one.... I hope this isn't just going to be about a certain local species of "pigeon," but all locals who waste cyberspace bitching, and writing asinine second guessed critiques that make obvious the fact that they do not read Babalu, and don't know the contributors because, either they are full of shit, or they need their medication adjusted. One in particular comes to mind; a very talented Cuban writer and patriot who could/should use said talent to eviscerate the regime we all agree is the enemy. What a waste! Que clase de come mierda, if you are not part of the solution, then you are part of the problem.
Posted by: Ziva at September 7, 2007 01:15 AM

Ziva,
Settle down, it's a "semi-regular" feature not War and Peace. I don't think there's enough time to catalog the jealous rants of a lunatic.
Posted by: Henry "Conductor" Gomez at September 7, 2007 01:33 AM

¨War and Peace¨ you're right of course, not enough time, and not deserving of the effort.
Posted by: Ziva at September 7, 2007 02:16 AM