Mailbag (or Le Sac Postal for the Québécois)
Our sole Canadian reader, MH, write in:
Mighty Czar,
Given recent confusion amongst the worldwide Western political class over basic economics, human rights, free speech, Constitutions, and so forth, I have been quite busy stockpiling water, weapons and whey protein, so my apologies for the long silence.
Anyway, recent posts at Castle Gormogon have stirred some thoughts and memories, all quite pleasing and serenity-inducing, not unlike sipping on that second or third (or fourth) glass of fine whiskey.
One: The mockery of duct cleaning was reminiscent of my now 64 year-old engineering father ranting in his usual soft spoken and amusing manner about the futility of said activity. Good times.
Two: One of my yearly pleasures is to gather the appropriate gear, mount the castle roof, and lay in wait. Once the little one and her friends come within range, I rise from my perch and unleash the leaf blowing Kraken. I laugh maniacally, the dog barks incessantly, and the children learn several valuable lessons. As a bonus, I find it’s an effective way to sort out which neighbours I can drink with.
Three: After the last few days (and months) of American electoral mayhem, an analogy came to mind which I thought I would share. While I have no clue as to the ‘electability’ of the good looking crazy lady from Delaware, I’m not overly sympathetic to the situation in which certain ‘professional’ Republican types find themselves. You break it, you bought it; as the guy who should have been the first black president might say.
Which sort of leads me to the analogy: the Republican leadership and Big Conservative Thinkers play Captain Picard to the Tea Party and conservative populists’ Captain Kirk. I’m mostly a fan of both, but there’s a time to read Shakespeare, and then there’s a time to hit on the hot, green alien chick and kill every Klingon in sight.
I think it works on several levels.
As always, best regards.

Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй. The Czar was born in the steppes of Russia in 1267, and was cheated out of total control of all Russia upon the death of Boris Mikhailovich, who replaced Alexander Yaroslav Nevsky in 1263. However, in 1283, our Czar was passed over due to a clerical error and the rule of all Russia went to his second cousin Daniil (Даниил Александрович), whom Czar still resents. As a half-hearted apology, the Czar was awarded control over Muscovy, inconveniently located 5,000 miles away just outside Chicago. He now spends his time seething about this and writing about other stuff that bothers him.