This Week's FoH Mega Fan - Pat Murray!

This is the first in a (hopefully) long line of extended missives about the people who breathe life in the body of FoH. This week's installment is on Patrick Murray (a.k.a Muvee) of Braintree, MA.

You’ve scaled the walls of the internet. You find yourself plopped down in front of the official Friends of Harvey blog and asking your brain: Who is this Muvee? Why is he, of all people, deigned to be a FoH Mega Fan?

Muvee is a man who knows what he wants. A man who says what he means and means what he says. Never insipid or vapid, rather his political bend is philosophically quixotic. A man of refined values and fervent belief, Muvee harkens back to the Crusades, the Renaissance and the Age of Enlightenment.

A modern day Thomas Moore (as Muvee is a man devoid of pretense, you can drop the “Sir”). His circle of intellectual attrition and immolation continues unbroken. No beginning, no end. Confined by neither time nor space. Time is but a door, death is but a window to transcendent Muvee.

Snaring sage nuggets from the liturgy of great thinkers throughout history, he has. Processing, churning, homogenizing. No mere consumer, regurgitator and ruminator, he leaves that for those intellectual bovines grazing in a meadow of mediocrity. While his allocutions are impeccable, his elocution leaves something to be desired. However, his written rants are iridescent elucidations that will illuminate the dark corners of your gray matter, as frequent readers of this blog will attest.

Of what Muvee is not afraid: the ruffling of staid feathers. Feathers attached to birds encased in a cocoon of nostalgia for their current stasis. Those cerebrally sedentary need either loose their mental phalange or use one of the emergency exits provided at each end of the cabin.

But one is not born so. Truculent Muvee, nee nebbish Muvee, over the years was forged by the knowing and capable hands of a loving Irish Catholic family. Ritual cheering on of the local Jesuit-based university football team taught him patience, teamwork and of the possibilities of mind and body working in concert.

Rising from the ranks of the so called plebeians Muvee embodied what Abe “Two Scoops” Lincoln coined “the right to rise”. An inherent belief in America and its Americana teenage Muvee possessed, but knew that he didn’t own it outright. Rather he peddled it, and pedaled it, as he spread his beliefs on his trusty bicycle to the unadored neighborhood children. The unseemly, the ugly, the nonathletic, society’s middle children, Muvee knew to look upon the corn and wheat and see that even the chaff has its place.

Fully aware that his views, neither right or left wing but rather carving the waves in a sea of double-talk like a shark’s fin, Muvee freely accepted his place among the inopulent. Eschewing easy riches, easy women, Muvee didn’t take the path less traveled, nor marched to the beat of his own drummer. No, he hoed his own path, as if hewn from the living rock of Stonehenge. The stretching out of the lies of the giants of the past mimics the tautness of his snare drum of life. All who are wise heed it’s call.

So sit back, elevate the legs of the Craftmatic, and take a long, slow pull off the fortifying rope that Muvee is offering. Knowledge born, challenges issued, lives changed? A mere day in the life of Muvee. He is a mortar and pestle for your very being, grinding your soul into tiny fragments ripe for close examination. No, Muvee does not have all answers, but he knows where to look them up: FriendsofHarvey.com.