Last edited by Popeye Doyle (2011-02-17 17:40:36)

Dear Gilgy;

A while back I chastised you for spending so much time finding and publishing the fault and fancies of others. While I still think it's silly spending much time like that I must correct myself on one vital point: you have indeed found much and now I see that there is so much of it that the small time spent in finding it is really akin to randomly tossing a dart at the floor -- you'll quickly connect with something flat, low, often wooden if not fuzzy, and possibly sticky, the surface of which is apparently endless.

A person doesn't even have to be startled by the weird, ecclesiastical prestige of people like that right-reverend-red-socks to think on the absurd but can simply gaze at the wrists of the fashionably cocksure-yet-whingy who, although odoriferous in more ways than are politely imaginable, nevertheless deliver daily those overwrought, desperate descriptions of their vanity despite the weight of so many timepieces, chronometers, "heirloom-quality, investment-grade" wristwatches and (hopefully) handcuffs.

So my apologies for insinuating you were making things up. Clearly, almost miserably clearly, you are not. Furthermore, perhaps it -is- a kind of public service to point things out like this, at least occasionally, in the hopes it may lead others to self awareness. That would be a great kindness to the entire world.

Cordially,
A.Q.

I am ignorant of "next door" and the fun to be had there.  Where is it?

Gilgamesh,

Very kind of you, thanks. May your lucid hours be peaceful, may your torments cease and may you continue your successful illuminations.

Cordially,
bro. A.Q.