The Hog Wallow

Oh God! Not him! ~Roxanne Pulitzer upon spotting Hunter S. Thompson at her divorce trial.

When I started this little venture, I promised myself three things: I would only write when I felt the need, I would be beholden to no one and although I would never spare the snark, I would not be unnecessarily cruel.

Fortunately, the need comes daily. Writing is a cruel mistress who will tease you for an instant, lash you for the moment and abandon when you just need a taste.

Not being an issue pimp is much easier. You state your philosophy and promise yourself to not give a good damn who you piss off. Hell, if you don't enjoying pricking the beast, why get in the game?

It's avoiding the cruel where the soul is tested.

Politics is a rough game. As some put it, it ain't for sissies. And it shouldn't be. It is the meanest, lowest, nastiest sport on the planet. It is the place where meglomaniacs are dragged weeping to prison, flithy money is wafted like opium beneath the nose of the weak-minded, ethics are fluid and legal depends on the number of votes in your pocket. It is a dark place. An easy place, where if you sink deep enough, you no longer notice your nostrils are filled with feces.

Sunday, I waded into the dark, muddy waters. In a moment of pure hubris, I started walking off the edge of the breakwater, not realizing my peril until the sewage had reached the tip of my nose. So, I backed off. Some will see retreat as weak. Some will forever see the skin of slime left by the misadventure. Perhaps both are right. Perhaps both are wrong. My only choice is to either allow my mistake to remove myself from the game or go back to not giving a good damn.

I choose to once again find the snark while avoiding the cruel.

This is no pledge which can be thrown back in my face. I am human and I will at times teeter on the edge of the deep sea of shit.

But the claws will not be sheathed. The opium eaters, pimps, whores, money changers and heretics will continue to feel their touch. Only the truly innocent will be spared. If possible.

Enough wallowing. It's time to get back in the game.