Reflection and Clarity
by Mac Callihan

        Sound Effects: Jail call, doors slamming violently, fade to the clinking of dominoes being “washed” on a dingy, metal picnic table. Half a dozen young women walk side by side on a great pier; they laugh playfully, lovingly, innocently amongst themselves. The dominoes clink slower…the silence buzzing , vibrations, and a grieving clarinet. Static and a restless leg with its incessant foot tapping; Fades to the soft and understanding woman who repeats the words “Voyage, guile, lithe, hope, voyage, Guile, lithe, hope”
        “Greeting ya’ll! Smitty’s back!” SOUND EFFECTS is either terrific or terrifying lately- sometimes both. I hit these notes on a xylophone here in the studio and the insane magic of SOUND EFFECTS is randomly generated for us! Weeee! Gotta love these new updates to my work place/play place.
       So, anyway, Propheteers, how the heavens have you been? Blessed and well and ever obedient to our heavenly creator I do hope!
        It’s been a truly unusual summer here in Holbrook land. Commissioner Silver has been my unruly, kinetic, knowledge-hungry travel companion. Over the past three months, we’ve visited 38 countries by way of Silver’s jet. Silver was arrested and jailed 8 times, all on petty charges. In whichever remote locate we would be, if Silver got “the look”, as I call it, the night would end in him stirring up beehives of trouble. As his guardian, babysitter, friend, ect; I’d get dragged into the madness and be forced to talk us out of corners and snags. And if Silver utters the words “Don’t patronize me” or “Time to deflate this judgmental pricks ego, Holbrook”, then he almost always ends up incarcerated.
        He damn near incited a riot in Rio de Janerio, Brazil last week. What started as a tepid and pleasant conversation about general anatomy quickly turned a dark corner for silver and a fellow bar patron. I had just returned from the restroom to witness the NBA’s commissioner pissing into a tall glass under the bar, unbeknownst to all but me. He saw I noticed, winked at me, and presented the fresh glass of piss to his apparent adversary sitting abreast with him; the haughty fellow was fully distracted by a breathtakingly lovely college aged Brazilian girl, turning on all the charm he possibly could.
        Silver tapped his shoulder, gained his attention and motioned happily for a toast. Silver leaned back in his barstool, looked the Brazilian beauty up and down, and licked his lips with deliberation.
       “Here’s to anatomy, my friend, especially the anatomy of that gal….the one whom just walked away from you because you’re an arrogant dead-end know-it all!”
        The man scoffed, thought Silver was a psychotic joke of a man. But he held his tongue because the ignorant Yankee had bought him a tall boy.
        “To anatomy; delusional Yankee!” The fellow confirmed as he rose his glass in unison with Silver.
        “Bottoms up!” Silver commanded. Now what happened next I’ll never forget nor understand…such is Adam Silver.
        The Brazilian yuppie spewed out the hot piss after an enormous gulp of it. He was livid and ready to throw down, but silver snuffed the fuse out in a split second.
        “You’re theories on microbiological warfare’s influence on the global economic market is just horse shit, you smug fuck!” Silver screamed.
        And with an explosive tomahawk chop, Silver brought down a half-full beer bottle over the man’s head. The man dropped to his knees at which point the commissioner knocked him out with a potent roundhouse kick to the side of the head.
        Almost immediately Silver was restrained and the police force cuffed him and took him straight to the jail.
        This was only last week and Silver instructed me to not to throw his bail, so I flew back home.
        This morning I received a letter in the mail from him. It stated he would not hire a lawyer and the jail time would clear his head, might put things into prospective for him.         It is my fervent prayer he is right about this. He may just emerge a serene and reasonable human, which is what he is at his core. Everyone has a poor summer performance from time to time, so let’s try not to judge the commissioner.
        His letter has glimmers of sunlight. He wrote that humility is born in such places of grief and sober reflection. He wrote he deserves to sleep on a thin mat on a filthy floor, that any real punishment in a just society should include disease ridden showers, fluorescent lights and the color orange. I agree, I agree….

        God bless you, Prophet Nation. Pray our NBA commissioner finds peace of mind, finds a new way to cope with his inner frustrations and fears. Voyage, guile, lithe, hope. I’m Smith Holbrook and its Prophet Reporting.