Where is the public place for loss of personal control? Where is the place for ‘fight club?’ The gridiron, the clay court, the roped ring, and other similar, are where that all belongs… there are many many venues for men (and women and children) who ‘cant bear the burden’ one moment longer, to vent their particular pique or outrage.
Long ago I knew Chained Lightning Johnson, an old battered boxer who’d won his share. He was a disciplined fighter-philosopher. I can still hear him say, ‘the only fight worthy of me and my opponent, is short, hot, hard and contained, with rules that show a clear winner at the end.’ Other kinds of fights? Lightning thought they were initiated by ‘fluffy men flailing at each other,’ all energy wasted in their egos. He believed ‘Them who figure themselves fighters, aint.’ He meant fighters dont marquee themselves outside the ring.
To this old vet, a fight without a clear winner, a fight that just erupts out of nowhere, wasnt a fight. It was a public display, he said– forgive the strong language– of ‘a man going wee-wee on himself in public because he doesnt have the balls to choose the right time and place… and to train hard to win clean and clear.’
Some in lower British parliament do erupt, it is true –always with cameras on–. It is entertaining to some… those stand-up comedians who run like a third-rate Monty Python Non-flying Circus. Amusing perhaps. But forgettable to those who want elected officials to be seasoned and know the time and place to use their strategies… not just ‘pounce and blurt,’ like an unsocialized child.
Even though some in the lower legislative body carry on the oleo, most other UK legislators are more concerned about their own UK soldiers dying, and the children in the e. London outback going hungry, and the influx of old tribal people from the mideast who have immigrated to UK, and some continuing their ‘tradition’ of murdering their own relatives at will.
Legislative bodies that endorse and allow deterioration of their members to drama queens calling out insults like drunkards in bars hooting and reeling while the musicians are trying to play… move legislation crudely slow… while behind the scenes no one is watching … and often the fat cats get fatter and cattier and cattier. Off camera.
It was the murderer Joe Stalin who said, Entertain the people, then crush them while they aren’t paying attention.
Joe Wilson, a fighter? Nah. Joe Wilson, a petulant who is being used.
Here in the west, some of the men I spoke with from VFW, said it in pretty blue terms: Joe Wilson’s outburst was utter disrespect to the President — any President. Some are calling him ‘Pudgy Joe Willy, who had too much puddin’ to eat,’ (an old military insult for a guy who has a big mouth but flabby muscles, one who cant back up his mouthiness with physical muscle). Several others opined JW could be put to sleep with a KO in one second flat. The general consensus was he couldnt hold his own in a real fight. No way. Some thought he was a disgrace the likes of which they’ve never seen and hope to never see again.
Understand, regardless of the vets politics… The real warriors who might agree with Joe’s throb or not, may think the question of health coverage for people in the US without papers needs more clarificaiton… but real warriors pledge fealty to conduct themselves with honor, and to give their President, agreed with politically or not, respect.
It is pretty breathtaking to see honor fall apart so thoroughly in one elected man of such incredible wealth and education, such intense power and privilege. In old school thinking? Joe Wilson coulda been a contendah perhaps. But not after this. “Wet-dynamite” is the name given to contenders who showed promise, but who jump the gun with lack of self control and thereby, disqualify themselves from being thought of as a giant in the game.
Great cauliflower-eared sage, Chained Lightning, used to say something like this: A true fighter admires an opponent who has the steel of patience and discipline. Any one can throw a pouty haymaker or a roundhouse punch. But haymakers and roundhouses never win fights. Never. Discipline wins fights.
_________
CODA
I apologize if the photo at the top is distressing. It is there to make this point: The photo above is that of 24-year-old burglar who, armed with a long-knife, broke into the home of 72-year-old UK pensioner Frank Corti and his wife Margaret. Mr. Corti lunged at the intruder and aimed a solid right hook and a lunge-jab, felling the younger guy “like a sack of spuds.” Corti restrained the burglar until police arrived. The intruder was convicted of aggravated burglary. Mr. Corti, is a well-trained and prize-winning boxer from back in his army days in the 1950s when he served with the Royal Engineers in North Africa.