17 May 2023
You were wrong, and I was right, and I’m sorry.
I’ve learned that some offenses can never be forgiven, and that being right, and therefore out of step with the rest of the world, is pretty close to the worst.
“About what?” one may ask. Take your pick: Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan, Mitt McCain, Syria, Russia, Ukraine, the DEA, ATF, IRS, CIA, FBI, SARS, MERS, Wuhan Flu? I would love to have been wrong about any one of those issues. (Well, not about diseases I guess. I’m actually glad I was right about how relatively undangerous they were. If anything, there I was overly cautious.) But in matters geopolitical or interpersonal, I wish people could disappoint me more. That would be truly refreshing.
addendum 230518 — and draft registration, and the PATRIOT Act, and the Departments of Education, Energy, HUD, and the EPA….
addendum 230519 — AND you* killed my mom. And I’m still sorry.
(*via your ilk)
addendum 230524 — Creative readers and other cognitive failures may misconstrue my latest header as “suicide friendly.” That may be wishful thinking for all I know, but more sober readers should know that I am about as suicidal as Vince Foster or Jeffrey Epstein. But fortunately not as threatening to the Democrat party.
Continuing contraindications of suicidal tendencies are such data as my recent successful surgery (6 March 2023) to correct an inguinal hernia, whereupon both my surgeon and I were pleased to learn that I was NOT the anomaly that was going to spoil his perfect record. And today, I have finally lifted myself from the ground to my tenth floor suite by way of my own muscle power. I’d made it a policy to walk DOWN regularly since moving in here a year ago, but never took the time to ascend. The elevator is just so tempting! Still, I am naturally sedentary, so I must trick myself into exercise that is not mind-numbingly tedious. Walking is good for that. And to be perfectly honest, I may have cheated a bit. There are four stairwells in this building, and I use them all. Walking up today I would climb one flight, walk that floor to the next well, and repeat. I’ve yet to do all ten flights from the basement, but I am typically there with laundry and late at night after other work, so the grand tour seems less desirable. However, as a soothing palliative to my systemic “CDO” (in alphabetical order, the way it’s S’POSED TA BE), I’m just gonna have to gut that one out.
Your friend and mine, the non-suicidal Lethargy Lad
(aka Chef Laurent or Rector Lawrence or Gene Greigh or The General Cashier or, just recently, Safari Lehr*) ((*who bears a striking resemblance to The Gay Cowboy, but with a different hat))