This is probably my last post at Deerhound Diary.
I can’t stop writing, but I can stop hoping. The country is done. And you are done.
Nothing against any of you personally, but you’re done. Your passions are bled away to carps and complaints. No reaction to the plethora of content I’ve posted here. No responses to Shuteye Nation, Shuteye Town, Glovesoff, 10 years of Instapunk, the live ICR of The Boomer Bible, nothing. No attempt to highlight or think about any of the content. You can’t be bothered. Any of you. No attempt by anyone anywhere to promote this site on Facebook or Twitter. Fine. I understand. No attempt by anyone to offer financial assistance to the continuation of this vain attempt to speak truth without kowtowing to the professional media or political activists. Some of you read the posts. Thanks.
Why I’m headed to Johnny’s Last Chance Garage. I’ll write there as I can. I don’t believe in warriors anymore. All I can be is a highly vulnerable resistance. Because I believe the president should be impeached and removed from office. You go on and do what you do. Whatever that is. Thanks for whatever that is.
Thanks to Guy. Hope you return to good health. Thanks to Lake. Hope you have an outstanding career. Thanks to Tim. Hope you weren’t rooting for Ovechkin today. I absolve you all of any obligations. And everyone else. From now on I will be simply a diarist, talking about nonsense in the dialect of an irrelevant oldster. No more movements, fevers, and politics. Just trivia.
I’ve had it with trying to convince anyone that what I have to say should attract any attention. It shouldn’t. When the world is too busy to listen, what you’re saying isn’t important. Mencken. Or was it Babbitt? One of those.
I’m not trying to give you a hard time. You’re young’uns who all know far less than you think you know and I’m tired and old. I have lost the power to entertain, educate, or inspire you. You no longer even get my jokes. How you know when to retire to the garage.