A Negligent Soul, I have been reminded, I am.
I have never liked holidays much and have held a particular distaste for New Year's Eve.
I don't really know why.
Last night, having dinner with people decades older than my wasted self, they spoke of hope for the New Year, things they must do, improvements in their fitness that must be addressed. The lady of the group, is 27 years older than i am and has been smoking for longer than I have been alive. She has challenged me to a cane race!
Yet she knows Hope, a stranger to this odd investigator of what he most likely misunderstands.
An editor told me once, that writing was like throwing mud at a wall and seeing what sticks.
I feel like I've been throwing chalk at a mud hut trying, but note hoping, to discern a meaningful outline.
I do truly hope that something written on this site has been of use to You, my mostly anonymous reader, and that something written in the near future will be better.
I apologize for not doing podcasts. But speaking rattles my eye, as does writing. i choose writing [can tolerate 4 hours screen time a day] because writing is how i think. I have never discovered or figured out anything by speaking. if I have a choice of saying something i have already thought of or thinking, I'll think.
This past year I turned down 5 podcasting offers, including Myth of the 20th Century, where many of you found this old crud. Adam graciously proposed a talk, and I gracelessly bowed out.
Thank you all so much for supporting my advanced misbehavior.
Wishing you all a better year to come then the one that is nearly done.
James, Portland, Oregon, 12/31/23
Keep doing it your way, James.
Get back to Mot20C! Goyim scum