Thursday, February 28, 2008

Of Fame And A Card Table in Cambridge

I'm of a mind this morning to grab a broomstick, tie on my hobo bindle and head out into the world and make a name for myself. One way to make a name for oneself is to fling a pie at a famous person, like Amy Winehouse or the corpse of William F. Buckley. Another way is to create a great work of art, win high political office or get rich and make people acknowledge your meaty manhood by prostrating themselves. Certainly a wide range of choices...maybe it's not fame I'm looking for this morning. It's more likely that I'm simply misjudging my craving for a fried egg.

So I had a fried egg, and it turns out that was it.

Linda is at work right now, going about the newspaper business in myriad capacities. She does a little bit of everything, except deliver the fucking thing. She's suffering from an as yet unidentified virus that looks extremely unpleasant from my side of the bed. It's likely that all the screwing will lead to my getting whatever ungodly affliction that is afflicting her. And I can feel it percolating in my system, causing a cough and a stuffed-up schnozz.

Pity me.

Yesterday my issue of "The Socialist" arrived in the mail, along with a reminder to pay my dues, which are $25 a year. I can easily get around that by writing to the National Secretary about my pathetic inability to pay any amount of money for such an esoteric concern. What are they going to do, kick me out? One less schmuck to sit around a card table in Cambridge once a month and carefully root out the political margins, like swine for truffles. And between you and me, I don't read most of "The Socialist." I look for my name and that's about it. Just like the police blotter in the local paper.

"Dear Comrade Secretary,

Enclosed you will find a $4.17 Remeron class action settlement check which I've signed over to The Party to cover my annual dues. The rest of my money is tied up in anything else. Please stamp my dues book and return it to me. Thank you.

Solidarity Forever,
Darren W. Lyle"

I really do have a $4.17 settlement check for the psychiatric drug Remeron, and I'm still unclear as to what exactly they did to me that requires a "settlement." It's a market manipulation thing, not a deadly poison in my system thing. Isn't that good?

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