Confession

I... I have a confession to make. I've not been reading the very interesting book about the Cold War. I've not been doing my exercises every day, more like every third day. No, I've been reading a terribly addictive site called Not Always Right. And no, I'm not providing you a link, not being a pusher.

I'm justifying it as a way to understand stupidity. Oh, not all of it is. Mostly, but some is obviously drug use or brain damage or organic brain diseases, or age. Mostly it's a hugely inflated sense of entitlement and complete obliviousness. But none of the characters in my neglected but unforgotten novel are smart. I like smart people. I understand smart people. But there are a lot more of the other sort, and I need to write about them, especially when they are good hearted and doing the best they can. Even more when they are bigoted and isolated and terrified and hostile.

But that's not why I'm reading through the over 300 pages of this site. Not really. Not when I look at myself with clear eyes and tell the truth unvarnished. No, it's because I'm laughing at them, not with them.