13 August—Peloquin rampages again. Or still. Along with other junk mail in my PO box yesterday was a business envelope with the return address of Michael J. Peloquin, Developer, Post Office Box 1352, Litchfield, CT 06759.

It was addressed to “ROSENBERY [with Y manually corrected to G] – Author of Litchfield Monitor” at my son’s PO box address, as usual, even though Peloquin has been told repeatedly by the PO staff that it’s not my address, which they’re not allowed to reveal, but which he’d be able to find on the internet, just like he found my son’s. Since they all know how close Peloquin and I are, the USPS clerks obligingly deliver his billets-doux to my box anyway.

Peloquin had been warned by the resident trooper to cease and desist his harassment. But this billet-doux was yet another threat—hand-scrawled on xerographic copies, “Rosenberg—‘Stop’ OR Full Page! Republican/American/” and two words I couldn’t make out that look something like “Xui Result!,” perhaps alluding to a Chinese enforcer whom he’s hired to do me in or at least pull out my fingernails. He’s probably not aware that all he needs to do now is disconnect my battery-electric bra and cause my frail heart to skip a beat.

So poor Peloquin is threatening yet again to pay Hearst through the nose to publish something that’s already been published and has been a matter of public record for a decade. When is he going to wake up and die right?

And what brought about the old guy’s latest hissy fit? Sure enough it was the 28 July disquisition “Peloquin v. Litchfield P&Z,” whose dateline he kindly augmented with “2026.” For whatever reason, Peloquin also copied “SUPPORT THE RIGHT TO ARM BEARS” from the sidebar and wrote “Stop” on top. I’ve never thought too deeply about it, but are there any laws at all pertaining to arming or disarming bears?

So it appears that poor old Michael Peloquin doesn’t want anybody to know that he had lost in court in May and is royally pissed that the Monitor spilled the beans—and, as it happens, at the moment remains the only bearer of those glad tidings.

You wonder why Hearst’s Connecticut travesty, which boasts that it “centers its publishing mission on hyper-local community journalism,” and foists all manner of gratuitous, useless crap on readers, hasn’t picked up the Peloquin v. Litchfield P&Z story. On second thought, you don’t wonder—because it’s Hearst. But you do wonder why John McKenna’s Litchfield.bz has ignored it . . .