Today’s Sinfest made me chuckle.
Now, people will say this is alarmist. They’re right. I will be assured by terrible reasonable sounding people that this is silly. And they will indeed sound very reasonable. And I will give better than even odds that there will be no draft, certainly. Don’t feel a need to convince me. I’m not gonna argue with you, and I’m not all that worried. I’m certainly not going to quote chapter and verse about why there might be a draft–you believe whatever you wish to believe, and ‘das cool wi’ me.
Foremost among my flaws–and I have many, many flaws, but this is one I’ll cop to–I am a gloater. I say “I told you so.” I nurse a grudge with the tender and loving passion that a gardener will nurse the rarest and most fragile of orchids. I will get up in the night and prepare a heated bottle ‘o bile to make sure my grudge grows big and strong. I do not forget, and while I have been known to forgive, there have to be hellaciously mitigating circumstances, or else a total and abject apology and admission of fault, or else a really shiny object. (Really, really, REALLY, shiny.)
This makes me a less than stellar person, I realize, but in my defense, I am quite aware of this flaw, which may not mitigate it, but at least allows me to work around it a little bit, which is why I am issuing this blanket warning.
If you’re a Bush-supporter, and Bush wins, and there’s a draft (or an all-out civil war in Iraq, for that matter) I suggest that you unfriend my blog for at least a week,* and possibly unplug the phone. Because I am gonna gloat. I am gonna gloat in ways that will make Achilles dragging the corpse of Hector, Tamer of Horses, three times ’round the walls of Troy look like the very model of restraint. I will dance. I will utter the phrase “I TOLD YOU SO,” and “MISSION ACCOMPLISHED, HUH?” and I may just program my oft-threatened giant flaming dancing earthworm font in which to do it. I will mock. I will gloat. I will be absolutely, positively insufferable, I will be so terrible that even I will hardly be able to stand me.
And because of that, and because I try to work around my flaws when I can, consider this a warning. Because I like a lot of you guys, even if I find your political views occasionally misguided, and I’d prefer not to annhilate any otherwise cordial relationships with my 2 point Gloating Geas flaw. Many a friendship has been destroyed by politics, and I don’t want to do that, but I will no more be able to not gloat than I could fly. So just be aware–if that happens, the bridge to Ursula’s rationality with be rained out, and brief detours are suggested.
Thank you, that is all.
*Actually, if we’re being realistic, my attention span for outrage only lasts about three days, and it should revert back to art and entertaining encounters with urban wildlife shortly after that.
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