Well, I’ve learned something today. What I learned was this: when your ham-and-provolone-on-white-bread sandwich suddenly begins to taste like a banana, it’s time to throw it out. Now I share this lesson with you. No, don’t thank me—that’s just the kind of guy I am. I basically can’t help myself. (Neither can anyone else, I suspect.)
I’m starting to get back into the swing of article-writing, with two new articles in front of editors as I type this, and another two or three pieces brewing on my hard drive at home. Whether or not those simmering pools of language ever see the light of day is another question, of course; sometimes a piece which starts out full of tasty promise ends up being the fallen soufflé of writing, if you follow me. All the ingedients seem correct, and the cooking process is roughly the same as all the other dishes I make, but nevertheless I occasionally end up with something that, if writing results may be equated with food taste, closely approximates a cigarette-and-coffee omelette. Or worse.
At any rate, I keep getting Election 2000 stuff in my mailbox, but recently it’s swung from being solidly anti-Democrat to become sort of a turgid bipartisan mix of shrill laughter masking pessimism, vitriol, and bleak resignation. It’s kind of like hearing the body politic whistling past the graveyard, and the tune is just as fractured as you might expect. So if you’ve come across any particularly funny election-related humor in e-mail, do me a favor—delete it, will you? You’ll feel much better.