El Jefe is usually certain that he is Felix – fortunate, one of Fortune’s Favorite’s in fact. Okay, not real prepossessing looking, not a rocket scientist, or mega millionaire, or a rock star, but life has generally made up for this in other ways. El Jefe has a good life and is usually certain that the Big Guy Upstairs, or whatever underling he has deputized to watch over the operations of Gang Bosses like El Jefe -- takes care of things.
No doubt, in the Big Picture view of things, he does, but recent events, some frightening, some inconvenient, some depressing, (fortunately, none serious in the earthshaking, life or death REALLY UNLUCKY sense), combined with a serious case of Writer's Block have made even El Jefe wonder whether he is under a Dark Star, yea, whether Fortune, as it did to Great Caesar on that very Bad Day in Pompey’s Curia, has deserted him. Dark Star, Big Cloud, Bad Mojo, whatever.
No doubt, in the Big Picture view of things, he does, but recent events, some frightening, some inconvenient, some depressing, (fortunately, none serious in the earthshaking, life or death REALLY UNLUCKY sense), combined with a serious case of Writer's Block have made even El Jefe wonder whether he is under a Dark Star, yea, whether Fortune, as it did to Great Caesar on that very Bad Day in Pompey’s Curia, has deserted him. Dark Star, Big Cloud, Bad Mojo, whatever.
No doubt Gaius Julius Caesar Dictator, could El Jefe but ask him, would know the appropriate sacrifice to propriate the Gods: that which would make Fortuna Primigenia turn her beneficent gaze once more on the world of El Jefe and his friends, family and enterprises. But alas, Gaius Julius is long gone, except to an old friend's Ouija board, and in any case, we live in a more “civilized” time. In any case, events over the past couple of days make El Jefe even more certain that he won’t be sorry to see the back of 2005.
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