marathon men (and women)
when you’re right as often as i am, and others are wrong as often as they are, you find that you can never assume that there is anyone who will be right even most of the time. in fact, the best of the best get stuff wrong, and that’s why i’m here, to correct them.
i get so many questions about whether this is ok, or whether that is heretical, and i’d love to be able to point people in someone else’s direction and just say, “go ask him (or her), because they get it and you can trust them.” but i can’t do that. all i can say is, “trust no one. except me, of course. because i’m right. but i’m the only one.”
you see, then, that being right all the time isn’t just emotionally and psychologically draining because you have to correct all the other people who are so wrong, but it’s also draining because of how isolated you feel, and because of how many people you have to give right answers to, and because of how much motivation you have to cultivate to have the energy to do this, day in and day out.
maybe now you understand why i’m feeling so burned out.
although i cannot commend all the content of what you find in their writings, i want to take a few minutes and acknowledge the men and women who have been and are (now more than ever before) an inspiration to me to keep cultivating my self-righteous rage and my disgust at everything that doesn’t look or sound quite right to me. i must confess that these fine writers have, at times, been on the receiving end of my own verbal assaults. i do not apologize for this, but confess it to make clear how great-souled these heroes truly are: they have fought with me, and they have been vanquished, but they have arisen to become indignant and malign others with a resiliency that fills me with awe.
as i have found the hard way, the race is long, and is in fact never over. as long as there are people on this earth, there will be people who are wrong, people who stand in need of correction. ours is a battle without end, a war without hope of victory, a raging of the night that will nonetheless never go quietly.
to you, brothers and sisters in self-appointed judgment, i give my gratitude and admiration:
Steve Kellmeyer, you were the first to show me that you can always find fault with someone about something.
Randy Engel, you are a constant reminder that we are to hate both the sinner and the sin.
The Brothers Dimond, shine on!
Bob Sungenis, never forget that you are my sun: bright, warm, and not at all at the center of my universe.
Dale and the gang at New Oxford Review, you’ve done better in the past, but you’re still dear to my heart, and i wish you a quick recovery.
there are, to be sure, many many more that are deserving of thanks. but it is to these few, these happy few, that i have often turned for inspiration when i’m feeling like i simply don’t have anything left to spew.
so to you few, i thank you.