I seem to be doing remarkably well this morning, with people yelling at me from several blogs at once.
It all started with a silly post at AmericaBlog where the author felt compelled to insult all Grateful Dead fans, and I insulted him back. Then I insulted the blog publisher as well, who promptly insulted me back in the form of an apology that started out with “No offense, but…” — you know those are never going to turn out well — and now I’m getting nasty replies from people reading my original counter-insults. Other than exposing an obvious weakness of mine, this isn’t turning out to be very productive!
(It’s especially irritating when people call me on something and they’re right, so please limit your responses to easily-dismissed psychotic rants.)
As a side issue, I wonder why I pay any attention at all to political blogs. It seemed like life-and-death importance during the Bush years, and it still seems that way now, in terms of the financial crisis, but getting angry has rarely done me any good. I need to change my ways, but I can’t seem to end my addiction to political “news.” The true issues in my own life have absolutely nothing to do with politics, so why do I go there? The last refuge of a victim, perhaps, aside from complaining about the weather.
The most telling response so far was from a gentleman who commented about the size of the chip I had on my shoulder and said, “I thought people in Taos aged gracefully and graciously. I guess not.”
Other than acknowledging that he had me pegged, my first reaction is that this is a town where beheading is a local leitmotiv, a poor soul skinned alive during the Taos revolt was eaten by hogs on the plaza — shades of Deadwood! — people regularly jump 600 feet to their deaths from the Gorge bridge, and just two weeks ago someone left a rotting, dismembered female corpse in a dumpster at a nearby scenic overlook. (I’m just sayin’…) My second reaction is that I was raised by barnyard animals who didn’t for one second age gracefully themselves — think raging, sobbing, drunken chaos, knives, and squealing tires — so I am definitely not aging gracefully or graciously at all myself yet, not one damn bit, and it’s getting to be a chore and a half.
[sigh]
I shall have to find the motherlode of fun and move along. If I can do it, anybody can.
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{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
I’ve noticed over the years that you only get ringy-dingy on the weekends. I remember having some epic interchanges with you on Saturdays. Who knows, maybe its the moon. Maybe the todays waning cresent makes you irritated. Enjoy.
Hell, Joseph, I’ll grasp at any straw. “Ringy-dingy on the weekends” is just fine!
As for enjoyment, I am endeavoring to locate a different variety. It can’t possibly be too late, because I’m still here.
Hey!!!
Wasn’t it you who said they gave up those politico sites? Get off there!
You are RIGHT, compadre! It’s an addiction to a certain way of feeling, and it gets in the way!