Moment Of Clarity
OK, so just to be absolutely, 100% clear about yesterday's post: it was supposed to be satire.

I was shocked and awed in a very sweet, non-Rumsfeldian kind of a way at all the concern I got from my dedicated readers... most of them anyway.

If you misunderstood, that's all on me. I wasn't trying to trick anyone, really. Well, except the entire Christian Right, but more on that in a moment.

For regular Bucketeers, as I wrote the thing I thought I was making it obvious; references to my wife sodomizing me with a foreign object while I slept, calling sports-talk radio for relationship advice, quoting a line from Ghostbusters, etc. As usual, "what I thought" as I was writing ultimately had very little to do with any kind of reality.

As I said, whatever misunderstanding happened I take full responsibility for. As for what (sort of) went wrong, I see two options:

1) I am a master satirist, capable of evoking images and emotions so deeply primal that readers are unable to distinguish the fictive and the actual, the hard-lined contours delineating reality from rhetoric smeared into a spectrum of infinite, borderless color by a swirling, raining miasma of words and images that speak directly to the human soul, bypassing the discerning intellect.

2) I am an incompetent hack incapable of making a coherent point.

I do see that you people don't actually have any kind of context against which to judge what is and isn't true about me and my life. Know what? I kind of dig that. Suffer in your ignorance, people. To quote billionaire philanthropist Jimmy James, I am a riddle wrapped in an enigma, smothered in secret sauce.

That said, from here on out I recognize that I will be the Blogger Who Cried Silly. As touching as it is to know you all would have my back (at least for the few seconds it takes to crank out a comment on a post) in a crisis, the result of this episode may be that should something actually happen, I'm going to have some skeptical, skeptical readers on my hands. I can see it: "No, I swear, my mom really did get run over by a train. God damn you people, believe me!"

Beyond satire of the moment, my main goal for the post was--and still is--to have it circulate around the internet as an inspirational chain letter among irony-proof right wing nutcases as an actual example from real life how gay marriage ruins hetero marriages. I want to be as famous as the person who first wrote that Clinton murdered people and fathered dozens of black children out of wedlock. Fingers crossed.

Mrs. Pops has asked me to point out that she is not in fact a raving homophobic, change stealing, family-abandoning xenophobe. When I asked her what I should say about the night-time sodomizing with a foreign object, she kind of just shrugged and walked away.

And I would never refer to homosexuals as "homos" if I were being serious. It's dismissive and vague. In my everyday life I celebrate diversity by using much more specific terms: "pickle-smokers" for the guys, "carpet-munchers" for the ladies. I'm sure the gay and lesbian community appreciates it.

In closing, I will quote a certain anonymous someone who summed up his/her reaction to learning the truth about yesterday's post via e-mail: "Fucker."

I don't think I can improve on that.


This post on the Narcissus Scale: 10.0 (is it possible to be more self-referential? I think not)


Pops


PS- Tomorrow: the story about the time my oldest boy accidentally killed homeless guy. It's true!

PPS- This topic saved you all from a long, long post about how Australia has decided to stop calling soccer "soccer" in favor of "football". Damn. Maybe tomorrow.

- posted by Pops @ 8:22 AM