---

As many of you know The Mooj was kicked off his old web site last week.  I had no idea that this happened until my mailbox began to fill up with inquires from concerned Mooj Heads.  I quickly checked my web page and found to my horror that my free-bee web site had been hijacked by another—an Alabaman calling himself "Mummy"!  Inquires were made on my behalf by The Mooj Social Justice League and it was learned that the good folks at Fortune City [my previous web host] thought little of The Mooj and sent him packing.  The real reason for my treatment was disguised in their flimsy excuse about operating a ‘business on a non-business web site.’  Perhaps I can best sum up this unpleasant experience by sharing some opinions offered to me by fellow Mooj minions.  Viz:
 

"...Oh okay, I think that the Free Tibet Militia should be calling up the reserves right now and do a little search and destroy mission on that anti-Uzbekistani-Punjabi Alabaman freak! Kill! Kill! Kill!  See, that is why I need My MOOJ. I have lost my center." (Juan H.)

"What happened? Help, I need my Mooj fix!"  (Alaana W.)

"Egad! Where is the Mooj Page?????  How can I start my day off without my daily dose of Mooj?"  (Wayne C.)

"...Why would they do that?  Will the Mooj return bigger, better, stronger that before?  What happened to the archives? Were they retained for their obvious historical, cultural and artistic value?  Doesn’t the author have proprietary rights in this matter?  Why has the redneck mummy from jerkwater, Alabama stepped in and taken the Mooj's life? Is he a racist?  Does he discriminate against Uzbekistani-Punjabis? Is the Mooj mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore?  Where are Janet Reno and Bill Clinton?  As Far as I'm concerned the "mummy" is the suspect in a hate crime!  He burned MY friggin church and now High Priest Mooj has nowhere to preach!  Damn it!!!!!!!!!" (Randall H.)

Before I leave this sad chapter in Mooj history once and for all I’d like to offer you some heartwarming dissipation (to hopefully soothe your temporary ire).  The following poem was read aloud Thursday night (May 27) at the world famous Ends Up Café in San Francisco.  (The author [and presenter] of this work wishes to remain anonymous due to his current stint as Mayor Willie Brown’s Aide de Camp.)

Scene:  Ends Up Café, open mike night: poetry session no. 4

[********Cue Lights**********]
[******Cue Bongo Beat********]

A Beatnik Poem to Stir the Masses for Mooj

What was wrong with the content of the page?
Is it wrong to have poet-philosopher-king-philanthropist-community activist rage?

Do you have a problem with Mooj being in jail?
If that's the case then pay his bail!
The Mooj is the man and what he is, is not for sale!

[*****Bongo Solo***********]

The Mooj teaches us all a course we cannot fail
We must all unite and against Fortune City and the machine we must rail!

Sometimes in a thunderstorm we all get hit by hail
The young are week and the old are frail

You can get your Dockers at Mervyn's this week on sale
I have a hammer and I want to hit a nail

The wind is howling, it's blowing a gale
The streets are a mess with garbage escaping its pail

Meanwhile Mooj rots in his jail
Unable to express himself cause he lost his e-mail

The End
 
[****No Clapping, Only Soft Finger Snaps*****]

Delaware Bay 23%, Chesapeake Bay 19%, Morro Bay 12%, San Francisco Bay 10%, Santa Monica Bay 9%, Tampa Bay 8%, Hudson Bay 4%,  Bodaga Bay 3%, Thunder Bay 2%, Miramichi Bay 2%, Mobile Bay 2%, Monterey Bay 1%, Saginaw Bay 1%, Green Bay 1%, Narragansett Bay 1%, Tillamook Bay 1% and Coos Bay 1%.)  

I voted for Delaware Bay.

Anyway, I diverged from the topic.  What I was leading up to was that one of Predators wrote a rather nice letter to me (and to top it off he phrased it in the form of a poem):

Mooj The Magnificent!

Lo, did I search for said mention of my team
T'was seemingly absent from your hilarious ream.
I looked high
I looked low
I shifted fast and slow

I looked here and looked there with the utmost of care
I am now concerned because YOU said it was there!

Where?
I searched your archive
And to my surprise is The Mooj-man himself
Stroking the mane of the Predator Mascot!

Keep up the good work Mooj, the predators (for the most part) love you (platonically of course).  I must ask that you keep my name anonymous because some here think that one's love of the arts and poetry is, shall we say, unmanly.

Your #1 Admirer 

WANED FRUIT
By: Poonam U.

My grapes are shriveled on the vine,
They are no longer in their prime.

My kiwis are wrinkled, old, and wrought,
They were once so firm and taut.

Golly! My loquats, they are pathetic,
How can you call that pleasingly aesthetic?

Look at my melons that used to be so sleek,
Now nobody wants to sneak a peak.

Could that be my cucumber seeming so flaccid?
Where once it was ripe, now it is rancid.

At one time my fruit, it was so besotten,
But now it is just plain rotten.

If only I had known, if only I had seen,
Perhaps I could have done something to intervene.

It is too late now; it's something I should have realized;
I should have pruned, watered, and fertilized!

MY DEAR SON MOOJ
By Pretty Mamaji.

A house without undulating land
No three legged frogs close at hand
Your bedroom window faced the door
Even dry flowers on the floor!
No wonder Mooj went Kaplooey
We violated the sacred tenets of Feng Shui!

Light bulbs shining way too bright
Wash hung on the line overnight
Loud music played too long
Fireplace facing wrong
No wonder Mooj went kaplooey
We violated the sacred tenets of Feng Shui!

Cream front door instead of green
Toilet lid up, shouldn't be seen
No head board on your bed
Oh my gosh, no more need be said
No wonder Mooj went Kaplooey
We violated the sacred tents of Feng Shui!

So now Mooj my son
It's time all this is undone!
Running water in your cell
Crystals hanging near a bell
A plant and pet will bring you luck
Particularly if ones a Mandarin duck!
So Mooj, soften your corners, clean up your act
And imminent freedom will become a fact!