One of the characteristics of this site contributing to its high(ish) indexibility is my fondness for loading up new stuff with links to old stuff on the same subject. This not only buys me Brownie points with search engines, but it gives me an ironclad excuse to see how my viewpoints have changed, if at all, over the two decades (almost) I've been running this place. Inevitably, this means I end up reading a lot of the old archived pages many years after the fact.
And if there's anything blatantly obvious about the first six or seven years of this site, it is simply this: it's a barbaric yawp, though not an especially creative one. Oh, yeah, I could turn a phrase pretty well even then; but Gawd, there's so much complaining! You'd think I was contemplating driving into a bridge abutment or something. (Truth be told, for a few days there, I might have been. On the best day I ever had, I was not an especially happy man, and these were far from my best days.)
Still, the tone around here is a smidgen less whiny these days, with the exception of a couple of topics: my collection of minor and not-so-minor ailments, some of which can be downright painful at times, and my perennially empty dance card, which causes a lot of annoying resonances inside the empty cavity that serves me for a heart. Nothing much, I figure, can be done about these particular things in the time I have remaining, if only because there doesn't seem to be that much time left — not that I have any reason to think that the lowering of the boom is imminent.
Perhaps more to the point, I'm not being allowed to wallow in my seeming sorrow: just when I think the frustration level has gone beyond 11, something wholly unexpected happens. I got three of these yesterday, in fact:
So perhaps this threefold assault on my mindset was intended as a wake-up call. I can't say for certain. But as I've long held that some things suck worse than others, I am forced to concede that those other things therefore must suck less. And less suckage is something that ought to be acknowledged once in a while, in the midst of all this simulated misery.
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Copyright © 2015 by Charles G. Hill