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Stephen H. Provost is an author of paranormal adventures and historical non-fiction. “Memortality” is his debut novel on Pace Press, set for release Feb. 1, 2017.

An editor and columnist with more than 30 years of experience as a journalist, he has written on subjects as diverse as history, religion, politics and language and has served as an editor for fiction and non-fiction projects. His book “Fresno Growing Up,” a history of Fresno, California, during the postwar years, is available on Craven Street Books. His next non-fiction work, “Highway 99: The History of California’s Main Street,” is scheduled for release in June.

For the past two years, the editor has served as managing editor for an award-winning weekly, The Cambrian, and is also a columnist for The Tribune in San Luis Obispo.

He lives on the California coast with his wife, stepson and cats Tyrion Fluffybutt and Allie Twinkletail.

Colby Covington thinks he's tough, but he's just clueless

On Life

Ruminations and provocations.

Colby Covington thinks he's tough, but he's just clueless

Stephen H. Provost

Dear Colby Covington,

I’m using both your names because, if I just said “Colby,” no one would know who I’m talking about. They’d think I was ordering cheese.

On the other hand, if I say “LeBron,” everyone knows.

When someone said your last name was Covington, I thought they were talking about Robert, the Houston Rockets forward.

Full disclosure: I’ve never been a huge fan of LeBron James. I’m a Warriors guy, so it doesn’t quite work out, y’know? Plus LeBron has a big ego. But at least he has something to have an ego about.

Who are you again? Some UFC fighter? Well, good for you. And now you’re saying James “wouldn’t even last 10 seconds” with you. I’m assuming you’re not talking about a basketball contest, because in that case, you wouldn’t last 3 seconds with him. He’d shred you. Like cheese.

I’m also assuming your not talking about net worth, because I looked it up. Yours is like $2 million, which is a nice little chunk o’ change. But it’s less than 20% of what he makes in one year. And when I say “he,” I’m not talking about LeBron. I’m talking about Robert Covington, who makes $11 million a season and whose salary is, in turn, less than one-third of what LeBron makes. Minus endorsements. Feeling better about yourself yet, Colby Jack Shit?

You see, calling people names goes both ways. If you can call LeBron a “spineless coward” (based on jack shit, as far as I can tell), I can call you “Colby Jack Shit.” The government can’t stop me. First Amendment and all. Or do you even know what that is? You see, since you’re a Trump fan, I can’t be sure. He once referred to Article XII of the Constitution — which doesn’t exist.

But hey, worship an incompetent sociopath if you want. It’s a free country.

And in case you think I’m calling you out, let me set your mind at ease. I know you’d kick my ass in a fight. And I’m fine with that, because unlike you, I realize that different people are good at different things. I know the world isn’t defined by toxic masculinity, and that beating the shit out of someone doesn’t solve jack shit, Mr. Jack Shit. It also doesn’t make you better than someone who can play basketball. Or direct a movie. Or fly a fighter jet. Or perform heart surgery. Or do any of the literally millions of things you have absolutely no clue how to do.

You saying you could kick LeBron’s ass in a UFC fight is kind of like him saying he could kick your ass in a game of one-on-one. Or Beyoncé saying she could kick your ass in a singing contest. Or Neil deGrasse Tyson saying he could kick your ass on a physics test. Or, if you insist on talking about fighting, Tyson Fury saying he could kick your ass in a boxing match.

All these things are undoubtedly true, but they’re so patently obvious that none of these people would bother saying them.

Why? Because they’re not as pathetically insecure as you are. Whoever you are.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I understand: Maybe you’re just saying this for show. Maybe it’s because you realize that, in the grand scheme of things, very few people know or care who you are. So maybe you feel like you’ve gotta hype yourself so people will pay attention. Maybe you’re thinking to yourself, “Hey, it worked for Ali.” But guess what, genius? Ali could’ve kicked your ass, too. And not just in the ring. The guy actually new how to insult his opponents with flair. Calling James a “spineless coward”? C’mon. Is that really the best you can do?

Meh. Maybe it is.

Then again, maybe this isn’t just for show. Maybe, for some reason, you actually, personally hate LeBron James — someone I’m guessing you’ve never met.

Which means you’re either 1) a pathetic wannabe self-promoter or 2) a garden-variety asshole. Either way, it doesn’t look like LeBron cares, since he hasn’t bothered to actually respond to you on Twitter. I guess that just makes you another nobody, begging for someone really famous to validate you with a little blue birdie on a computer screen. Boo hoo.

Does that make you blue, Mr. Cheese?

Mr. Nacho Nacho Man?