There is no vice so simple but assumes
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts:
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars;
Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk;
And these assume but valour's excrement
To render them redoubted! [...]
Now, of course, the excrement here is literally “outgrowth” in the form of a beard, but we all know that our subject, Mr Vadney, is full of a rather different kind of excrement: the bovine kind!
We have already seen how he describes himself as “valiant”, “courageous”, a “real champion”. Yeah, yeah.
And he accuses Scott Horne and me of “alleg[ing] one can enlist in the military for a particular posting”. Really? Where did either of us say that? Of course, in theory, once enlisted one can be posted anywhere at the discretion of the service involved. You might not be able to decide where you get posted, but, at least as a volunteer, you can decide on the timing of your enlistment. In particular, if there is a war on, you can wait a few years until your government starts pulling out. And that is what brave little How-Old did.
Twenty-two is a pretty ripe old age to be joining the army as an enlisted man. What was brave little How-Old doing that stopped him from rushing to his country’s defence in its hour of need? Attending college? Well, yes, sort of.... Apparently he had accumulated all of 15 semester hours at Union College, Schenectady, by the time he enlisted. Any serious and non-retarded college student would have got a bachelor’s degree by the age of 22. Do I smell an ill-fated attempt to gain a student deferment? Whatever the reason for this unsuccessful stint as a student, young How-Old wisely refrained from joining up until the process of “Vietnamization” (begun over three years earlier in 1969) was almost complete, enlisting a couple of weeks before Nixon announced the suspension of all offensive activity (although I was pretty offended by Watergate), and less than a month before the signing of the Paris peace accord.
So rather than a sign of the “champion’s” heroism, this looks like a carefully calculated attempt (probably using all ten fingers and a few toes too) to avoid any actual combat duty. But of course, nothing stops the milk-white-livered coward from assuming valour’s (bovine) excrement!
Nowadays Mr Vadney has more sedate ways of displaying his valour, or at least his excrement. Like attacking old people for...their age. He’s edited it out now, but there are still copies around of the blog entry where he referred to the artists Frank and Trudy Little as “Methuselah’s parents”. Like victimizing innocent people and turning their daily existence into a nightmare with frivolous and totally meritless, but time-consuming and expensive, court cases. Like ridiculing people for their disabilities. We have a reference to the “partner” of one of the hapless defendants in one of the Vadney’s court cases as “the hunched, paroxysmal, lurching ‘Robbie’”. Even I get a serve for mentioning my minor and well-compensated dyslexia, but of course there is no explanation for the Vadney’s own inability to spell or even read. Who could forget the “Kabal of Sleeze”?
And again, one wonders why anyone would still be bragging about such an inglorious military career over 30 years after its abrupt and humiliating end (perhaps Mr Vadney would care to inform us just why he was let go so suddenly?). Maybe because he has accomplished nothing since?