Again, no author with “Hang Him High!”, directly the link above this Story Notice, which is meant to focus your energy on that very report, so that your eyes burn it up, as through a magnifying glass, darkly.
But there is so much Steve Kowalski in it, that we probably correctly suspect the piece is by Kowalski himself – frequently shown to be not man enough to own up to his boyish fantasies, which he will often throw together in his laptop’s word-processing program, as a way of dealing with his pent-up frustrations, which then somehow manage to get published on this website. Many of these fantasies (too many, we think, for his own good) having to do with women – and one of that not-so-fair sex, in particular. And somewhere in there, we’re supposed to find Kowalski – the Hero.
Pfaaa! Yeah, right! Add to that unsavory mix the debacle of some few years ago, when Kowalski reportedly killed the Ferret, who fell, crashing on his face, right in front of Kowalski, and then simply turned to dust and blew away, without Kowalski ever laying a paw on him; an event and experience, we have been informed by our anonymous sources with knowledge of the matter, which has greatly troubled Kowalski ever since. And that’s because, these sources say Kowalski says, Kowalski had wanted, but was fatefully denied the chance to at least get a few blows in against the Ferret, even if he’d been meant to lose that battle, reportedly provoked by his mustelid-like opponent himself (who saw Kowalski as an easy and fun win, having already once laid him out in a blitzkrieg attack at The Whiskey Bar down in Podil, because he found Kowalski’s mere presence there, among other things, annoyingly infuriating).
Yeah – Kowalski. The same Kowalski who’d won a regional poetry contest in Wayne County, Michigan as a blue-collar 8th grader in the 14-18-year-old category, beating out the two other finalists, who, at 16 and 18, were not only older boys, but from among the very well-to-do of the area. Both had hoped to put the laurels of their bardic victories into their resumes and onto their college applications. And what could they say now, having been beaten by a mere, and poor, boy – a son and product of grease-monkey truck mechanics and unskilled factory workers?
Revenge against Kowalski took the form of a nasty, cruel, and long-sticking moniker that had suddenly sprung up in Grosse Pointe following Kowalski’s win (where he’d also accepted his trophy and wreath in a chichi marina hall, many of his large and proud Polish working-class relatives in the audience occupying as many as several wooden folding-chair rows, clapping and cheering as he goofily bounded up to the dais upon the stage), and quickly spread statewide from there: “The Polack Poet of Gross Points”, both an obvious play on the name of the haughty town, which had launched the contest in the first place, and a more-than-equally obvious play on the nigh-disfiguring acne of Kowalski’s face; and with yet another layer of metaphor possibly suggesting something lewd and grotesque in the young and sensitively developing teenager Steve’s poetry itself.
All of which brings us back to the central point of this Notice.
We mean, this isn’t even a report! Where are Kowalski’s sources? A hero-ed-up retrospective on how he, Kowalski, wrote “Cold Grease Under a Hot Light” (see 4.7 KYIV COMMIX)? And do we, O, Intrepid Readers, want this sort of thing? Well, at least we now know who the author of THAT previously unsigned “report” is.
Hey, Kowalski! You want retrospective? Okay, so you’ll GET retrospective. You just wait.
It’s coming, boy… it’s coming…
Meanwhile, you all, see what you can make of “Hang Him High”, et al, immediately above this Notice on Kyiv Unedited’s Latest Posts board, smack-dab in the middle of its homepage, secretly called “HQ” up in the Menu. And what “HQ” stands for, we haven’t a clue…