I personally want to thank you, dear reader, for your loyal perusal of this blog’s contents. We’ve enjoyed a special relationship these past two years. We’ve laughed together, cried together—albeit somewhat asynchronously. You have graciously considered my “musings,” even when they ventured into dark waters; moreover, you have commented on the blog with your witty and thoughtful feedback. I must concede, though, that I’ve found your critical spirit a bit vexing. Even as I write these words, I can feel your haughty glare penetrating my soul—and I don’t appreciate it.
Why do look upon me with such derision and disgust? I know what you’re thinking. What’s that? You say I have a disturbed mind? That I repulse you? That in spite of my perspicacity, I’m a perturbed and paranoid person? Well, how dare you, sir (or ma’am)! Clearly today is “Hate Der Viator Day.” Admittedly, I am unaware of such a holiday, but evidently, you are, and you seem to celebrate it with gusto (and no doubt frequently). Tell me, reader. Do you get some kind of psychotic thrill, a tingle up your leg, from unrelenting attacks on my character and everything I stand for? Am I such a vile, loathsome creature to you? Yeah? Why do you delight, little man (or woman), in bringing me down to your level like a Saddam Hussein statue in Baghdad’s Firdos Square? Do my metaphors no longer entice you as perhaps they once did? I’ll give you credit for phenomenal multitasking skills: You’ve managed to excoriate, castigate, crucify, immolate, and blackball me in one fell swoop. Congrats! You’ve carved out a secure place in the I Hate Der Viator Book of World Records. What? No, you calm down, damn it!
Look, I don’t know how we got off on the wrong foot. I mean, we’ve been a great team, you and I. I write the words. You read the words, over coffee in the morning, a great boost to your day. Everyone has a great time. If only this screen didn’t separate us so cruelly! I’d love to enjoy social intercourse with you over Gentleman Jack on the rocks in a lowball glass. We’d while away the hours in pleasant conversation—the blogger and his reader united at least. Unfortunately, the disdainful look in your eyes, coupled with a tendentious desire to trip me up on some point of detail about world culture or history, would taint what could otherwise have been a wonderful tête-à-tête. Thanks but no thanks.