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Let’s Be Bitter (or Not)

November 8, 2008
Let's Be Bitter

Let's Be Bitter

I’ve had this can. in my fridge for a while now. Maybe it’s time to give it a try.

It looks kind of gross, though. Maybe another day.

I’m still taking the results of the election in. “Change is always experienced as loss” a former pastor of mine used to say, and it’s no understatement to say that the change others have been waiting for is the loss I’ve been expecting for a while. Just what the changes will be in concrete terms remains to be seen, so all one can do is wait and see how things shake out.

I thought I would feel more down, actually. Scratch that, I thought I would feel down, period. Anxious. Enraged. Terrified. Something… maybe I’m in shock or denial. Just waiting feels more like it. Just waiting for the future and living my life one moment after another.


This period is like an engagement or a pregnancy. It’s a time where everything is possible and great things are dreamed of and planned out. It is a truly special time, where everything is possible:

He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was. …

One autumn night, five years before, they had been walking down the street when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of the year. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

Romp away my friends. Romp like the mind of God until the pitiless crowbar of events once again brings us to our knees.


Some changes will be definitely be forthcoming here a the society for the politically incontinent. It all depends you see.

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