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HOME > Dear
Colonel...
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Although
Colonel Juan Galtieri was not the leader of the failed putsch on the tiny Caribbean island of Guinea-St. John
in the late ‘80s, he was
implicated as being one of the behind-the-scenes instigators and was
subsequently jailed for life. In prison he underwent a fundamental change
in outlook after having shared a cell for some years with the noted psychic
Ramos y Brava y Guevara, a one-time confidant of actress Shirley MacLean
and former First Lady Nancy Reagan. To while away the endless prison hours,
y Brava would channel the sprits of various notables who had “passed
over”, asking for advice and generally gaining sustenance and succour and
strengthening the cell mates in their ordeal.
It
was during one such channeling session – when the spirit of Mahatma Gandhi
was felt to be strongly present - that Galtieri underwent his apotheosis.
Previously infamous as a brutal man, renowned for torturing those who he
perceived as enemies by inviting them to dinner and haranguing them
incessantly with tales of his travels on the mainland and going into the
most excruciating detail on the routes followed, Galtieri became an
overnight convert to pacifism, aromatherapy, and previous-life-regression
hypno-therapy, coming to believe himself to be the reincarnation of,
amongst others, Genghis Khan’s footman, Saladin’s chief concubine. And, at
times, Napoleon.
As an
act of atonement for past misdeeds, and to prevent even more karmic
recycling, he realised that he had much to give in the way of insight and
wisdom, and to guide others away from following his mistrodden path. He
therefore contacted the local newspaper and offered his services free of
charge as, so to speak, an Agony Uncle to the power hungry. Following are
excerpts from his weekly column.
(With thanks to
the Nova Isla Weekly Herald for permission to reprint them.)
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An Agony Uncle To The
Power Hungry
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Kim from Pyongyang
writes:
Dear Comrade Colonel Juan,
I am bereft! The Revolution is dying! What
is to become of us, Dear Leaders of the vanguard of the great experiment!
The New World Order! Of state controlled
economies and peoples? Now that the Bearded One - our dear Fidel - has
retired, we who still cling to our dreams of a world made great for all by
the dream of Communism; the dream made flesh by the likes of Mao the
Munificent and Stalin the Supreme; we must all come together and unite!
Unite, I say, against the evil of rule by the so-called democratic masses!
The heresies of the age, of consumerism, of rule by law, and of democracy,
these must be fought tirelessly by those of us still left who BELIEVE! Who,
Colonel Juan, I ask you, who is left to carry on the struggles? Everywhere
we turn we can see that there are many little people who would still follow
great leadership when it appears! Look to the many followers of Mugabe, of
Muammar G., and even Bush's evangelical hordes. There lie
the hope for the future, in those who can be moulded as the clay of
revolution, in the mindless hordes who…
(Letter edited)
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My Dear Kim,
God, you do run on so! Isn't it about time you took your nose out of
your collection of
Western films - and Western women! - and
just looked around you?!? Yes, the world is changing! The Revolutions of
the Old World Order are dead! No more communism or socialism! No, Dear
Leader, today the revolutionary fervor is held in reserve for the new wars,
those being fought for the environment, wars containing gore galore! So,
get with it, Dear Leader: buy some sandals to make a tiny carbon footprint,
hug a tree, kiss a whale, and eat local foods only! For one of your
talents, immortality awaits should you be seen to trade in carbon credits instead
of stale ideas!
(And if I seem a bit cranky today, I apologise to my readers. Since
dear Saddam was taken away to go and fight - and lose - the mother of all court
battles (what, he never heard of Johhny Cochrane?), my cellmates have all
been dogma-spouting jihadists, and I am SO tired of 'Allahu akbar!'s from sunup till sundown! If bloody Allahu was so
bloody akbar, would he want mindless morons
intoning it endlessly…?)
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Jacob
from Jo'burg writes:
Dear
Comrade Colonel Juan
I am
but a humble man, and most unworthy of asking one of your stature, who advises the great and noble, for advice.
But, my dear Comrade Colonel, I have run into a spot of bother recently.
First I was accused of corruption and of accepting bribes; then my name was
dragged through the mud during the kangaroo trial of a close and dear
friend, a business associate with whom I have had close ties over a number
of years, and I subsequently lost my job as Deputy President. Now I have
been accused of rape by a family friend, a young lady of close acquaintance
to whom I was merely trying to offer comfort and solace, seeing as she
suffers from an unfortunate affliction, being HIV positive.
My
question to you, my dear Comrade Colonel, is this. I am convinced, as any
sane person would be, that all of the these events
indicate that I am the target of a deep-reaching conspiracy. I even know
who my enemies are. No, what I want to know is, can I appease my many angry
wives by buying each one a new 4x4?
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Dear Jacob
Yes, conspiracies abound in the world of the great, and of those
aspiring to greatness. Do not be dismayed and discouraged by them. But when
it comes to women and their wiles, I am afraid you are barking up the wrong
tree by asking me. I have not even seen a woman in three years. And my
current cell mate, the scrumptious Saddam (whose moustache so deliciously
tickles my thighs during our intimate moments) says that women thinking
they should have equal treatment with men, as apparently happens in certain
decadent Western countries, is the cause of the decline of those countries.
(Oh, he does go on so, my dear Saddam!)
4x4's, dear Jacob? These are for disciplining your wives, not so? I
think 2x4's are much better. And remember the little wooden handle for a
better grip.
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Muammar from Tripoli
writes:
Dear
Colonel Juan
I write to you in desperation. Attending the founding of a new
organisation recently, namely the African Union, in Durban, South Africa, I
got the strange feeling that the other African leaders were not as
deferential to me as they should have been. After all, the whole
illustrious enterprise - the scrapping of the old Organisation for African
Unity by replacing it with a new body named with only two words - was MY
idea, and don't let that bearded, Shakespeare spouting upstart, Mbeki, tell
you otherwise! And yet, they would not let me be the President! After all,
who else but I have the wisdom, the vision, the strength, to lead this dark
continent into the light?
The people - all peoples everywhere - love and revere me above all
others! This was borne out by my visit after the founding conference, when
I, all alone (but for Allah and my forty car motorcade )
visited some of the other countries in the region, bestowing my blessings
and petrodollars upon them! As I have led my people in the glorious
revolution, so must I lead the whole of the continent.
And yet, when I nominated myself - Allah be praised!! - it
seemed no-one else wanted to vote for me. Do they not want real leadership?
Even Comrade Bob's unflagging support - and Allah knows, he should be my
staunchest supporter seeing as I'm bankrolling his sorry excuse for a
goverment - could not persuade the other leaders to vote for me! This is
inexplicable! Why do they not like me, Colonel Juan? Why?
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Dear Muammar
It is indeed a sad spectacle when genius such as yours is overlooked.
I am of course not surprised that others can not appreciate the subtleties
of the greatness of your Green Revolution. Or cannot see just how free your
people are to agree with everything you say. Men of true greatness such as
you are often appreciated only after they have been deposed by howling mobs
bearing Molotov cocktails, for it is only then, in the chaos that follows,
that the security which you represented, is yearned for. The stability
brought by the ever-present security police, by the 2am knock on the door,
and the trucheon in the ribs. Take heart, my friend. The time will come
when those others will bow down before you, according you the necessary
respect and love.
Until then, perhaps you can try washing with soap and water instead
of your usual brisk daily rub-down with the camel dung?
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Julio from Peru
writes:
Dear Colonel Juan
The Shining Path, the movement which has for so long been my mother,
my father, and my very being, has lost its way! I have always been a loyal
soldier for The Cause, following orders with blind obedience; killing the
despised government soldiers, those lackeys of the imperialist yankees (I
spit on their graves!!), even, ay caramba, when so ordered, massacring the
campesinos who refuse to pay their taxes to us!!
But now, alas, we have lost the Way to Truth. It seems our
commandante, Commandante Gravas, is only interested in money. Yes, he has
become a ... a ... CAPITALIST! It is the drug money which has so corrupted
him. True, the Coca dreams that we provide to those greedy yankee scum (I spit on their graves!!), corrupts their
children and seduces their women, but it also has sown the seed of
corruption among my own comrades in the Path. They only care about the
moneys, and about the capitalist decadence. The Nikes! The Ray-bans! The
Calvin jeans, slightly bleached, with the
slits on the knees. No more for them the purity that comes of following the
thoughts of the great Mao. Ay caramba, Colonel, what am I to do?
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Dear Julio
I know exactly how you feel. Just last night I was deep in
meditation, clearing the chakras and preparing to channel the Great
Helmsman Mao for my roommate Slobodan, who was in existential distress and
in need of spiritual succour, when, just as I could hear the Great Mao's
exhortations to let a thousand flowers bloom, his presence was swept aside
by the spirit of that imperious litlle toad of a man who followed him, Deng
Xiaoping. Followed the Great Mao, yes, but never filled his shoes! Always
prattling on about how getting wealthy was good for the country! Ludicrous,
and never a true revolutionary!
So, my dear Julio, even the spirit world, it seems, is beholden to
that call, the call of money, and true revolutionary principles be damned.
It seems you have the choice of either starting your own, pure movement, or
of becoming just like them, these descpicable captalistos! They have no
shame, and would even, I am sure, despoil the memory of the great Chè if
they could make money from it!
Whichever way you decide, please be sure to send me some of the
white powder as soon as is convenient for you. In the prison here we only get
cheap chewing tobacco, si, and it is no good for the sensitive spiritual
soul such as myself, your confidante.
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Do you have a need of the Colonel's sage advice? Then send your
questions to him here.
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