OBSERVATION: Bob Cesca writes more %#@*&

Bob Cesca, who writes regularly for Arianna Huffington’s “Huff n’ Puff” Post (as I like to think of it), is the nephew of a friend of mine. Since I am convinced that any direct communication to Bobbie will do no good whatsoever, I thought a letter to his Uncle Ray might be helpful.

Dear Uncle Ray,

I fear your nephew, Bobbie, is at it again. Unfortunately, it appears that he is the son of your brother and therefore presents a significant danger to the reputation of your good family name. Let me explain.

I am not at all sure you read his recent commentary. If public policy was not my addiction, I certainly would hit the spam button. Rather, I do skim the offerings of quite a few Internet writers. His writing is like a gory accident. I really hate to look, but I do anyway. Like an unhappy toddler, he grabs attention by throwing a tantrum -- verbal.

Apparently, he has not inherited your family’s cordiality, talent for articulation and thoughtfulness. In fact, having read a number of his articles, I was surprised to learn that he was actually out of high school. His logic and language are a bit … shall we say … on the sophomoric side.

And the language? Oh my! He seems to think that a point of view is enhanced by name-calling and the use of street language. He could have used some of the training I got from the old nuns and a couple good college professors. I recall on professor saying that profanity is for morons.

There is an expression that one can disagree without being disagreeable. Apparently, your loving nephew, Boobie … ooops … Bobbie … is not familiar with the concept. Rather than counter an argument, he prefers to scorch those who do not align to his thinking with baseless labels such as liars, bigots, fear mongers, etc.

In one of his most recent tirades, he referred to his adversaries (and he seems to have lots of them) as “frightened, dickless hooples,” and then made a second reference to their “dickless status.” (What is a “hooples” any way? My friends Merriam and Webster were not familiar with that word either.)

In his article, Bobbie created a delusionary ad produced by imaginary adversaries. (I know. I Know. Cheesy, but that’s our Bobbie.) The pretend advertisers were labeled in the faux ad as “frightened dickless bigots…” He seems to view “freightened” and “dickless” almost as a hyphenated word. (Uncle Ray, I think you can now see my concern about Bobbie’s phobia-castration hang-up.)

I am not sure if it is an obsession, but he is in the habit of calling his political enemies “ratfuckers.” Judging from his favorite aforementioned description of their physiology, I wonder if he knows that you need a “dick” to fuck a rat – at least I assume so. Since I am not familiar with the status of the aforementioned “dicks,” or who (or what) they are being used on, I must yield to your nephew’s apparent superior knowledge.

You know, Uncle Ray, the lad seems to be a bit paranoid, too. I mean soooooo many people and institutions that are conniving to do him harm – and only Bobbie (and a few friends) seem to think they are smart enough to know the truth. Like others on the political fringe, he seems to think he has exceptional insight and knowledge to save us all from our own mass stupidity. I guess they just don’t trust most people. We are all either evil or duped – saved only by the mercy and wisdom of Bobbie and his few friends. When he was a child, did he play well with others? I suspect not.

I would tell you more about the article itself, but between all the name calling, straw men, specious arguments and hyperbole, I can’t quite recall what it was all about. Something about Obama being a terrorist … and Giuliani being evil incarnate … and some newspaper in Pennsylvania that he either liked, or didn’t like. I can’t recall now. His screeds tend meander like a shallow river. Has he ever been tested for Attention Deficit Syndrome?

He is more like the fireplace than the candle -- preferring to produce heat rather than enlightenment. I guess that is good news. Given his distorted sense of reality, maybe it is good that his opinions get lost in all the potty-mouth prose. It is easier to not take him serious.

I notice that Bobbie seems to take some strange pride in his immature, profanity-laden writing. He boastfully invites people to read what he, himself, calls his “usual outraged, profanity-laced rants.” Reminds me of my uncle, the drunk. He was a proud drunk. Always bragged about how much he drank, and the stupid things he did when we was drunk. So, I guess if someone cannot be good, they can still be proud.

Hey! Maybe for this Christmas, you can sign him for journalsim or writing course – even better if taught by old nuns. Maybe some anger management thearpy. Maybe a haircut. That “Meathead” look (left) was a cliché when they did it on Archie Bunker – before Bobbie was even born, I assume.

Oh… and make sure he knows that dispite our differing opinions, I have a very happy outlook, am fully equipped, and harbor no speical allure for rats. Just so he can find some vulgarity other than “frightened dickless ratfucker” to describe me.

Merry Christmas, Uncle Ray. And extend my best wishes to Bobbie for a very happy whatever it is he celebrates around this time of year.