Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Failure of the Day: Humanity

I don’t believe I’ve ever felt despair as profound as that which I felt Monday morning in the laundromat. It was especially ironic because I’d spent much of Sunday night delivering a heartfelt if meandering “People Aren’t All Bad!” pep talk to Chris, who is having a bit of a crisis of faith lately. (I suspect a Demo win in November will go a long way toward convincing us all that there might yet be a shred of hope for humanity.) But within a matter of hours—and it doesn’t help a bit that overnight I inched that much closer to the cliché about menstruation that is all the more annoying for how true it is in my case—I was unable to partake in society at all, not on TV, in a magazine, or on the radio. (And of course I have no human interaction at all during the day already.)

The cause of my despair was an Interview magazine that I read after loading the sheets in the dryer (and I say that because it makes it sound like I actually help with the housework). The cover story was Courtney Love, who I think is repulsive on her best day, and reading the transcript of the conversations between the fawning interviewer and the obscenely self-obsessed and egomaniacal CL made “repulsive” seem a little generous. Chris is fairly well convinced that she paid off some shmuck to have Kurt whacked and he makes a good argument but I remain agnostic on that particular score. But it is not much of an endorsement to say that I think is roughly just as likely that she had him killed as it is that she didn’t. Either way, as mournful as I am that he is dead, I’m glad he didn’t have to see what a foul thing he married. One can only hope Frances Bean runs away from home tout de suite.

I’m feeling better today. I did another focus group this afternoon and just now I found this while ego surfing. Look closely.


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