October 3rd, 2006



Can't seem to fix the formatting on that last post -- the poem was copied from Gutenberg Galaxy but that doesn't usually throw anything off.  ANd then I got spamming responses to earlier posts, just links to online gambling casinos.  I feel a little -- I don't know -- at threat, or soiled. 

Gambling is among the vices to which I am not drawn.  (There are vices to which I am drawn but that I do not practice; others that I am both drawn to and practice; and those to which I am not drawn.)  I have no taste for exercising prideful power either, particularly; all I want in connection with power is to avoid having it used on me.  Sloth?  Oh yes.  Gluttony?  To the extent of my powers, which are not as great as once they were, and weren't ever all that great -- tho' in this respect only I resemble Dorian Gray and can still slip through an alderman's ring (well no not quite) -- my favorite teddy bear though is getting inexplicably large and degraded looking, resembling somewhat an Ivan Albright painting, only in polyester fur.  Envy?  No, not even that kind that Samuel Johnson says is the most destructive of vices, the urge to tear down or malign others more successful or happier than oneself.  When I tear down or malign such a figure, it is firmly based on objective judgment.  Avarice?  Byron is not the only one who knows this to be a vice of aging men.  My wife sensibly wants to invest what we have in projects to improve our life or our future or our messuages.  I seem to be increasingly resistant to this; I just want to see it pile up. On the other hand I don't do much to increase the store of it.  Anger?  In the last couple of years private anger at the way of the world has possessed me as never before; I don't know if that counts, and I know it's general, and possesses those who don't see the world as I do just as wholly as it does me, all the while I think they should be hanging their heads in shame and repentance in the face of my (unspoken) jeremiads. 

Well, I think that's all of them...