Or: A Simple Desultory Phillipic, 2005.
Gentlefolk, let it herewith be known that in this virtual place I am knowingly and with forethought breaking all conventions of diary etiquette by posting what can only be called the most navel-gazing and self-referential waste of words you are likely to read here today.
It's my birthday. And all that entails.
I've been drinking. Sadly not with Bill in Portland Maine, sj, ColoRambler, Cedwyn, em dash, dfarrah, dddemocrat, or any of the other fine denizens of this haven, but with some like-minded chemists and computer scientists. And we collectively have come to these two decisions:
- The world is a very sad place, and much of that blame lies with the Theocracy that currently own & operate our country.
- The Pale Ale beats the Brown, despite the valiant salemanship of our comely Twisted Pine waitress.
At this point you've already stopped reading my blather, so I will save myself both effort and future carpal tunnel repair costs by coming to a point. Indeed I shall. Any minute now.
Ah, here it is: You are the greatest.
Really. I've been bruised and snubbed here, but I keep coming back. I know few of you by face, but I know many by your words. And one of the few things that gives me hope on dark days is that even in America, a land currently so stricken by malaise as to give me cause for shame, there are wise, caring, thinking people like yourselves. I cannot stay away from this place for long, for where else do I find signs of hope?
As they say, Better a Bleeding Heart Than None at All. You've seen a bit of mine. I'm off to walk the dog, hug my wife, and play with my son. Have a joyful weekend if you're able to. I return Monday rejuvenated and ready to continue the fight with all of you.