Plague Rat I

14 May 2024

It may be just as well. I’m more apt to be looked upon as a plague rat than as an actual “friend” or as an unfortunate blood kin.

14 January 2021 — Father of the Whom?  
It has been suggested that I suffer from a persecution complex, and that the exclusions or ejections from fruitful relationships are imaginary.  AND that I have brought them upon myself.  Well then, which is it?  If there were actually something for me to bring upon myself, wouldn’t it be real?
I’m generally willing to concede the possibility, and sometimes even the likelihood, that I am the author of most of my troubles.  I am emotionally retarded and so can be a rather difficult case for people who might otherwise care about me.  In fact, I’ve spent much of the past week or so exploring these debilities, in a series of essays that I’ve reproduced from fragmented notes, and augmented, and posted (now under the umbrella title of “Counterpoint Confessional.”)  Unfortunately, the posting of these genuine suspicions have been read (again) as assaults on others rather than as an exposure and exploration of my own failures.  Just as no good deeds seem to go unpunished, few confessions escape being read as denials.
It is not imaginary (unless I am more delusional than had been suspected) that I have been ejected from two marriages, and recently, from a probable third – well not quite “marriage” – but close enough to hurt as much. The aggrieved are real people and they seem to have had their fill of me. I also recognize that the common factor in all three of these failures is me.
The following is also not imaginary.
Years ago, I attended my son’s wedding.  It was a gay festive affair AND a sobering revelation.  The world is free to review the photographic evidence.  During and before the event there were many portraits staged to commemorate both the day and the raveling relationships.  Many of course of the happy couple, the bride and her entourage, the groom and his, the proud and beaming mothers of the pair, the newlywed bride’s dance with her Daddy, and… Well, that’s about it. Oh, there were also plenty of candid shots at the reception, with eyes half closed or mouths half open, or eating or drinking or dancing and the rest of the revelry.

Okeh, THAT’s about it.  Other than an apparently unfortunate and unmistakable physical resemblance of a couple of fellas in the crowd, there was no affirmative evidence that the groom’s nativity was other than parthenogenic.

17 April 2024On Short Circuiting the Next Dismissal
B:
I regret that I will not be attending your wedding this summer.  Though there are a multitude of factors drawing me to Ecotopia – your and Wupdjuluf‘s nuptials, my fiftieth year High School class reunion (Spartan High, class of 1974), the spectacular coast, beautiful greenery, and of course your mom, your brother, my siblings, and other kin.  However, I am daunted by rather more than just the expense and inconvenience of travel to the Left Coast this time.  Since the murder of my mother (by house arrest) and the defilement of my grandson (“Misogynist in the White House!  Girl Power!  Machismo Bullshit!  Strong Independent Woman!  Loathsome Patriarchy!”), it has become increasingly clear to me that neither the State of Ecotopia nor the Peoples’ Democrat Party (just two heads of the same hideous Hydra) will protect our lives and liberty.  In fact, they may be the greatest of threats. 

Am I being cowardly or am I simply misinformed?  Maybe.  It bothers me enough already that so many for whom I care are still within (and embracing!) that dystopian nightmare.  But I cannot help or protect any of you from inside The Enchanted Forest if it is repurposed as a re-education camp for the unrepentant unwoke, unmasked, unvaxxed, and unafraid. 

I CAN, however, offer ya’ll safe refuge in New Aztlan, if and when you’ve escaped that particular madness. 

Meanwhile, I wish you and Wupdjuluf every happiness, as well as continuing good wishes for Dez-Low, Lukoz-Udob, and Rygez-Kikoby.

I love you and miss you.
Work hard, rest easy, laugh often, and love endlessly.

cc:  Julgovau Mymojut, Dprijv Ovagz, Jefhlif Ilud, Bdihf Pdieov

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