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Explanation of the Quotes on My Front Page

Updated 25 July 2004

Andrew J. Montesano There are four quotes on my index page. The quotes are interreferential, each a witness to animals masquerading as human beings. The first quote is from a letter of reprimand that I received from Andy Montesano. He handed me the letter for questioning a management decision to have a female student employee of Wright State University's media services department work from 9:00 p.m. until 2:00 a.m., alone and unassisted.
    When I received that reprimand, I told Montesano that his words insulted the ethics that I had learned from my parents. I did not tell him that such thinking made is possible for the soldiers of the Reich to massacre six million people during the Shoah. I did not tell him that such thinking sent over 15 million people to their deaths in forced-labor camps during the Stalinist "Great Terror." And I did not tell Montesano that such thinking was contrary to the words of the Bible (the last quote on my front page), which, assuming Montesano is a practicing Roman Catholic, are part of the religion by which he lives and raises his son and daughter.
   The second quote is from Tom Mills, one of Montesano's protege's. Mills is one of those classic "know-it-all" whizz kids that open their mouths a lot more often than they engage their brains. Of course,  Mills' behaviour has been rewarded by promotions & advancements.
  The third quote is from the story "Cabo de Hornos," written by Chilean author Francisco Coloane. In English the quote reads:

". . . the only persons who ventured into those regions were audacious trappers of nutrias and hunters of wolves, people of distinct races, hardened men whose hearts were nothing more than another clenched fist."

   Coloane's words are haunting.
   You begin to get an even clearer picture of this arrogant, self-important bully when you consider how he has bragged about driving against oncoming traffic during a day of bad weather when the roads were snowy and covered with ice. Montesano was on his way to pick up his children from a day-care center. He decided that his need to get to the day-care center was greater than the need for others on the road to get to wherever they were going. He spoke proudly of having crossed the median and having driven against oncoming traffic. This action, which he thought showed his audacious drive and leadership, could have resulted in loss of life or serious bodily harm not only to others on the road, but to Montesano himself. Evenso, he thought that his need was greater and that the safety of others was of no concern to him.
   One of Montesano's neighbors, who also works at Wright State University, joked that Montesano "wants to run the world like his own private protection racket." Montesano is, however, not alone in this regard. Everywhere there are street punks, criminals, untrustworthy public officials, hooligans and bullies like Montesano, daily making their way in the world more important than yours or mine.
    The climate here and around the world is not conducive to the survival of human ethics. We must all assume the attitude that each person is our individual responsibility. Montesano and Mills are arrogantly wrong in his statement. The testimony to the possibility of harm to others by those who evidently think as does Montesano is copious and simply unavoidable.
   Montesano owes an apology to me and the memory of my parents, who taught me that we are todos de la misma sangre, all of the same blood. Montesano's statement is an insult to those who died in the Shoah and to those who died trying to prevent its happening. Montesano's statement is an insult to the over 58 thousand men and women whose names are now engraved on black rock in Washington DC, each of whom died while Montesano was in high school, learning whatever ethics his statement might now profess.
    If you believe as I do, then, as my father used to say, "así sea," so be it. We are of human kin. If not, then you are an insult to the human blood that flows in your veins, pumped by a heart that is "nothing more than another clenched fist."
    You may now return to reading my otherwise delightful extrapolations on the narrative self . . . on my index page and the pages to which it connects.

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Copyright 2004 Nils R. Bull Young