Hear again: I make a toast to he who "waits" to rot or roast...
...One we've left to willful predators ... lawyers, doctors—bad faith creditors! Those who smiled and took his home; those who labeled—shoved him prone! Those who "represented" him, and in so doing—did him in!
Those who, even, drove him crazy—terrified, then scared you lazy! Masters of their obfuscation, lying with foul osculation, the darkest of the glad dark lords—those tormenting Johnny Ford!
Why, he's painted as a "monster," like some uni-bomber *fiend*. He's tinted psychopathic like a twisted shadow-dream. They make him out a killer (...likely them with bloody hands...), and they keep John Ford in lock-down as if HE'S the guilty man! They say that Ford's a horror "who's been brought to lawful heel." Though, they say (and do!) a lot of things ... like lie and cheat or steal.
John is more than metaphor, brought to heel and on the floor... awash in "water" to his nose—stripped of all but prison clothes...
He'll lay awake for hearing screams of those bereft their cherished dreams. Humanity is muted—dulled, wishes washed away... annulled.
Honored goals sans all potential, a victim of the influential; very lost and all alone—to lay awake ...hear cell-block moans...
Perhaps the inmates slap him down and treat him like a snitch! Perhaps a few go "all the way," and use him like their bitch! Perhaps his life's in danger from assassins in the shadow—John Ford must live a hell on earth, you're thinking, but you can't know.
...Unless, of course, YOU "fall afoul" to ask the 'man' a question, but the answers inconvenient so he prosecutes aggression!
Then it's YOU who wears Ford's shoes to walk his tortured mile. Then it's You who shall not matter, sans all substance, grace, or smile. Then it's you the "misbegotten" the one betrayed and then *forgotten* ... held apart to suffer hugely... played a fool like Howard's stooges...
...A toast to hapless innocence ... A toast to those who fall! A toast to Ford—and others—who are WRONGED and made to crawl...
We toast these persecuted. We toast them one and all—the ones who have the strength to spit, brought down to knees to crawl. We toast courageous Johnny Ford, I curse, apart, his dark realm lords. I'd toast the light a trial brings, and toast he wins... wins everything!
We toast this dissolution of corrupt machines and boards; We toast a grand new future that would see John Ford restored!
We toast with ardent fervor as John slips beneath their waves, that his plight is heard by those who have "the power"—hear my rave! We toast the few supporting him; We toast that there'll be more! We toast that Johnny Ford will stride triumphant... restored and more!
"Shoot Them Down"! --
Wendy's Song --
Rudiak Rides Again --
Always Searching --