I was made aware of another forum that focuses on Ozy and his everlasting kingdom (Hampton Roads Citi-Data). There’s a tendency to get off on tangents, but there is good discussion here as well. One fellow in particular had some things to say that I want to quote here to make point or two:
In time, however, Ed failed to act. He turned a blind eye to me, and many, many others who sought his council and wisdom. He simply had nothing to offer us while his ungodly father in law ran the organization and chased Ed and Pete around like whipped puppies at his own mercy. They were no shepherds at all….This time was different for some reason. To this day, I still don't know what it was…..Ed burst into my side door. He was mad as a hornet. I stood up in shock and to see how I might be of some service to him….Ed stormed in and stood toe to toe with me and started screaming in my face. He was beat red and furious with anger. He berated me for asking Pastor Paine and Pam if they would like coffee and cake "before" asking him (Ed) if he would like something. Ed was nose to nose with me and screaming at the top of his lungs. His brow was furled and his spit was spraying. He slammed his fist over and over again on my desk. I was sure it would crack. I just could not, for the life of me, figure out what I did wrong. Ed and I were face to face. I was looking desperately in his eyes for some kind of reason for the sheer madness. He even picked up a 50 cal shell - given to me by a brother - and whipped it on the floor. It riccoched up and nearly hit me. It bounced off the ceiling and wall making dents along the way. I broke down in tears continuing to look Ed in the eye. It was all so sureal to me.As long as people “break down in tears” Ozy will have the upper hand. He’s counting on that reaction from his flock. It works 99.9% of the time, because 99.9% of the time, sheep bleat. But when it doesn’t work, Ozy is the one that breaks down. Seen it many times. Caused a few myself.
Hey, inside Ozy is nothing. He’s a sick, cruel joke. He is a walking cliché. He needs to be at the top of his tiny pyramid to justify his wretched existence. Ozy has perpetual PMS.
Ozy is just like Butch and Mitzi, the Davis family rodents (Chihuahuas) in the 1970s. Now these creatures were dearly loved by the family, especially Mrs. Ed and Mrs. Pete (it figures, doesn’t it?). One time, when I was over at the “man of God’s” house in Waukegan (where only Mrs. “man of God” lived) for some stupid get together, one of those two rodents came over, growled, and then bit me. At the time I was briefly alone sitting in another room. What happened next was almost reflexive on my part (the Dog Whisperer has nothing on me). I reached down, grabbed that little sh*t by the throat, banged his head on the hardwood floor, and then flung him away from me. He didn’t even make a sound because I squeezed the breath out of him, but he staggered over to the corner of the room. Standing there shaking, he pi$$ed on the floor. I smiled.
That’s Ozy. He barks, he’ll nip at you, but when one uses effective “countermeasures,” he staggers away and pi$$es his pants. Ozy was that kid we knew growing up that always seemed to get the sh*t beat out of him. Now it’s revenge of the twerps.
A very good model for standing up to Ozy and his ilk took place in 1979.
This has been fun because Ozy is, well, funny! There’s a serious side to this, of course, but hell, there’s a serious side to life too.
But that doesn’t mean we can have fun and enjoy the parade!