Some of you may have noticed that last night I posted a bit of an email I received from a man known to many as The Young Professor, only to take it down earlier this morning. I did that because he asked me to (The Young Professor is an elusive and mysterious creature, roaming the hills and hillocks of central Ohio, somewhere around Utica, for all anyone can tell), and though he later obliged, the posting of his email made me feel small and petty and there was really no reason or need to post it in the first place. I certainly didn't mean it as any sort of rebuke to TJ, though maybe it came across as that.
As the days get longer here in the middle of January, I worry more and more that I won't ever leave this job and that I'll continue to fill the boredom of my working days with blogging. Someone should write a memoir about that.
And just in case you weren't convinced that our country is fucked, that people are always dumber than you give them credit for, or that New York has stopped being an Eden of opulence and instead morphed into a strange parody of a paradise of the shallow, dumb, and rich, read this article.
I don't disagree with the parents in the article that our world is in trouble. Unfortunately for them and their children, they have no idea that they are the trouble. Those poor fucking kids, man. Jesus.
Friday, January 13, 2006
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I thought I'd dreamed the whole thing and had engaged in some of my own self-creation, since I was excited about my first blog fight, even though I immediately backed down. I wasn't offended; I was invigorated. Criticism only makes me stronger.
What a weird week.
And those Childhood's End kids don't make it any less sad and weird.
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