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Hey, even a human/gorilla/warthog hybrid has feelings, too

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Well you’ve cracked the sky, scrapers fill the air. But will you keep on building higher‘til there’s no more room up there?



AUG. 30: 2012: I have been called many names by many people over the years, but I have never been lit up quite this way by a candidate running — or in the case of Donald Hassig, dancing — for federal office.

Hassig and I have a lengthy, but remarkably uncomplicated history. He phones me from time to time to tell me to go procreate with myself, and I hang up the phone before he suggests it a second time. (I once filed a complaint about Hassig to the State Police after he told one of our innocent secretaries to go procreate with herself, and the response I received was, “Oh, he says that to you, too?”)

Hassig occasionally emails the Times his manifestos as to why it is wrong for businesses to use air, water and other natural resources to make a buck. For the most part, we generally ignore him, except when he is thrown off municipal or private property for singing, yelling or dancing. For instance, I wrote in 1999: “Environmentalist Don Hassig went to Potsdam State University College in November to recite poems he had written about ecological concerns. Evidently, he started raising his voice to a bothersome level, leading to his forced removal from campus for, alas, noise pollution.”

Hassig is the Green Party candidate for the Congressional seat held by Bill Owens and his campaign is, as expected, Hassig-esque. But in the spirit of full disclosure, here is a portion of the press release he sent out this week:

I conducted my news conference in the outdoor area between the Flower Memorial Library and City Hall. This was a wonderful place to do a news conference because it is located right across the street from the HQ of the Johnson Newspapers Corporation (JNC). The JNC is the newspaper monopoly of the North Country. It is the perfect newspaper corporation for a backward, negative, military, industrial city like Watertown, New York.

The WDT is the flagship of the JNC. Robert Gorman, the managing editor of the WDT is a overbearing dirt ball that has well deserved every word of Truth that I ever spoken to him. I have on more than a few occasions told him to frack himself upside down in a coconut tree. This human/gorilla/warthog hybrid is nothing more than totally mean and crazy. Mr. Robert Gorman had the ugly audacity to say to me that I was scamming people about chemical exposure and cancer many long years ago when I first started my career as an environmental activist. I have apologized to him on more than a few occasions for having used vulgar language in response to his abusive attack.

He does not have the character that it takes to offer an apology. He does not have the character that it takes to accept an apology. Mr. Gorman is a hybrid as I described above. He is not done fracking himself.

... In my mind, the library and city hall juxtaposition constitutes a great campaigning venue. I got my CD player out of the van and made preparations for a dance performance on Washington Street... I spoke loudly. I sang loudly. A few times, I shouted loudly. It worked. A small crowd grew around me on the sidewalk. One trouble maker showed up and tried to get me angry. He did not succeed. However, I was a little pissed by his negative comments about my stature as a congressional candidate. I admit to having told him to frack himself quite a few times. Nevertheless, I continued to give a high-powered, exciting dance performance. I spoke much Truth. I felt much Freedom. It was so good.


I wish to offer a mild rebuttal. I do not remember anything about a coconut tree; Hassig must have said that while I was hanging up the phone on him. I don’t remember ever saying I thought he was scamming people because I have done my level best not to talk to him at all.

And I really do think I accepted his apology when he indeed called months ago to apologize for his vulgar language over the last 12 years. That part about me not apologizing to him? Yeah, he got that part right.

All I have to say for myself is that after 38 years in journalism I still can’t treat mental illness, but I most certainly can detect it.

And I’m going to let the voters of the 21st Congressional District sort out the rest.

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