Dear reader, a good story uses an extraordinary character in a wildly fantastic situation to make a statement about humanity and human nature that is clear, deep, profound, and universal. Zablotskyy the Scrivener is a good story.

Zablotskyy is a modern scrivener … he blogs for a living.

Old Behrouzi (whom I deem to be the embodiment of two evil powers - ambition and indigestion) preferred Zablotskyy when he wrote good reviews because it meant more money for Old Behrouzi’s red pockets. But strangely did Old Behrouzi change his mind when Zablotskyy became a millstone, not only useless as a necklace, but afflictive to bear.

You see, no amount of choleric hectoring by old Behrouzi could silence the whispers of wonder running round his grub-man company. No sooner had Zablotskyy dilligently copied out a charming blog post than, as if through an error of destiny, actual customers rose up and shouted, “We are seriously displeased with Old Ben!”

So what was Zablotskyy to to do? He asked himself, “Why, how now? What next?” He sat awhile in in perfect silence, rallying his stunned faculties. And like a sort of innocent and transformed Marius brooding among the ruins of Carthage, he cried, “enough!” Taking higher considerations and vastly wiser and more prudent principles into account, he told the truth.

And so, harassed by anxiety for the future, the already ambitious and dyspeptic Behrouzi did, as ambitious and dyspeptic men always do in a specially heavy way. He sued our Zablotskyy for the mild effontery of truth our unremarkable scrivener penned.

A soul whom prosperity harmed, Old Behrouzi avoided remembering the existence of actual customers unless compelled to do so.

Ah, Old Behrouzi! Ah, humannity! Black by greed and everlasting shade, may God some way bless you and bring you to the light.

Yesterday I was thinking about Old Behrouzi here, and I think that if he would but prefer to take a quart of good ale everyday, it would do much towards mending him, and enabling him to examine his merely self-interested motives.

As for Zablotskyy, there would seem little need for proceeding further in this history. Imagination will readily supply the ending. But, ere parting with you, the reader, let me say that if this little narrative has sufficiently interested you to awaken curiosity as to what to do to fight the scourge of Old Ben and, at the same time, procure a good ale for Zablotskyy, I can only reply that in such curiosity I share.

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Note: The above is a blatant parody of Herman Melville’s short story Bartleby the Scrivener. Go here for the actual facts behind Behrouzi vs. Zablotskyy. Better yet, click below to donate to Mr. Zablotskyy’s legal defense. No effort is too little when confronting evil … and no amount too small when helping a friend fight the injustices of the legal system.

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