He may be a laughing stock...the laughing stock of serial-plaintiff Joe Pilchesky's 'Bizzaro-World', where stalking is encouraged, children are targets, the Irish are evil, and a slow-talking nasty high school English Teacher is worshiped in spite of her utter lack of accomplishments on City Council.

By that measure Stacy Brown should feel proud, as obviously he is doing something right.

Free Speech does't require a multi-paragrah disclaimer Mr. Pilchesky.

How many white guys get to call a black guy "Uncle Tom" while fancying themselves as someone with credibility? Most of them wind up with missing teeth. I suspect that Stacy has too much class to dignify a comment like that. Still, I'm appalled.

Just another example of racisim at DD ... how can they be anything but a bunch of racist pigs when their leader is one of the biggest racists in town ... My opinion of course ...

I guess Joey's website now makes him a leading journalist in NEPA ... at least in his very small mind!

I second the motion.

Last night, I had a dream.

I dreamed that there was a knock on the door at 819 Sunset and on the porch stood a well dressed, soft spoken black man. A writer by trade, the man sought no evil or wished ill-will on anyone in his world, he merely reported on and wrote about the facts of the community he lives in.

A mouthy, dried up old hag resembling a which, sans broom, answered the door.

"Hi I'm Stacy Brown," said the man to the old pile of slunk meat. "I' like to speak to Joe Pilchesky."

"He's inventing users for our scumbag website, let me get him."

A shattered and bald old man who once resembled a human being came to the door. A quick look over the old man revealed a soulless, miserable, outer shell, with an empty and meaningless inner being hiding not far below the surface of his thinning pale skin.

"I came here to ask you to call me Uncle Tom to my face" said Stacy.

The fire and brimstone much bragged about was absent from the old man. He stood there shocked and dismayed. In all his years of challenging people to show up and teach him a lesson, he never actually expected anyone to do it. Now the teacher was at the door.

"It's just a saying Stacy," said the old man. Squirming and searching for a way out that would allow him to save face. "All is fair in war. I'm not a nice guy - never said I was. You have to be willing to get dirty..."

The old man continued delivering nervous tough guy cliche's as Stacy stood silent, never once averting his gaze into the eyes of a "man" who he quickly realized was not even close to deserving the use of the word "man" used as a descriptive term.

"I came here to teach you a lesson" said Stacy. "I'm leaving here realizing that I taught you a different lesson. The lesson I planned to teach you would have required a visit to the dentist's office when I was done. I realize now that you're too old, feeble, and unstable to teach you that lesson. Instead, what I hoped you learned is that if you ask enough someone will call your bluff. What you'll never know is that I grew up in a much tougher world than you can ever imagine. In my old neighborhood you didn't dare take cheap shots behind someone's back. Guys like you would have never made it out of my neighborhood alive. You can only hope the next guy who knocks on your door pities you as much as I do."

-- Edited by Art Gordon at 09:30, 2007-07-27