Got your note today, responding to my Stupid diary the other day. Thanks for reading (if you did; that's not entirely clear from your email).
Glad to know you consider yourself not stupid. Sad to hear you do consider yourself evil.
Sad, but not terribly, to hear that your self-proclaimed evil has led you to wish "all hardcore libs dead."
Why not terribly sad? Or scary, or whatever you were going for? Odd story...
Tonight I'm sitting in one of my least favorite places, the ICU. On a bed in front of me is an old woman, once vibrant, now weak and drugged and confused, hopefully climbing back to functionality after some neural storms.
We hope she makes it back. Still early to tell. Even if she regains all the speech and muscle control she had two days ago, it's still going to be tough. Mobility's steady dropping. Options closing. More pain, less brain. General drag.
For decades, this woman was a fighter, a barrier-buster. You've likely never heard of her, as her work was in that odd field best summed up with the phrase "public relations," but which would be better called, "Making incompetent people who bring in ten times your salary sound like they know what the heck they're talking about." I guess they chose "public relations" for the business cards.
So you've never heard of her, but a select group of people in a select group of trades remember her work with respect. Though her name isn't on buildings or books, she did earn a number of those "first woman to..." accolades.
Tonight, we're hoping she's going to speak again, be able to continue to live independently.
Which makes your email today seem a bit ironic.
You see, "dead" isn't all that frightening to me today.
It's the living that's the scary part.