The Commons Free Speech Area

After having been informed that all posts telling the truth will be erased, posts detailing any insults against money handling as anything other than a character building profession will be erased, posts of any length will be erased because...well....they are long, and obviously any posts detailing factual errors by the owners cannot be allowed, well, I figured it was time to sum up my most recent knowledge on the doomer known as RE, and wish him well.

I assume it, as with hundreds of others, will never see the light of day, so I thought I would drop a copy here until RE uses a backdoor to erase it here as well, or just makes the entire site disappear.

I will probably write a full blown Blog about this, but this instant I had to get this sadness off my chest.  I really can't believe the Stage Delicatessen is GONE.  Those Pastrami Sandwiches were a Gift of the Gods.  I find it hard now to see a good reason to live anymore. 

RE

So perhaps this is the final piece? In your waning years, you are reenacting the "good ol' days" of your youth, and experience actual sadness as time tears away the remnants of that time and those memories? I noticed your comparison to your Stony Stevinson days, and how you think of your audio rants. It fits. I had been wondering about the similarities between the mediums, and the way you wrote about that time of your life with such enthusiasm.

And now those memories, of that time, is all you have left to console yourself with. Those memories when you were the smartest,
that time of your life when you had all that potential, education, and the world would be your oyster. As opposed to the life you went and created, and the disappointment in it that you cannot escape.

No wife or children to hang on your stories of work or daring do, to laugh with you about the crazies you meet on the internet (as mine certainly do), no job you can revel in your success in with friends and neighbors, no one asks your professional opinion on anything because you don't have one of value, you have no reason to wake up in the morning except for drinking and smoking, and those fleeting moments, perhaps with a good buzz on, when for a split second you pretend that internet blogging popularity changes the balance, makes up for all those hopes and dreams dashed by reality.


I write this, knowing it may be erased for no other reason than its length, because I believe I might be done here. What you had to offer, those interesting stories of your life, have been replaced by audio rants similar in nature and quality to what radio shock jocks feed the masses, right down to farting/burping noises. I certainly didn't come here for near illiterate levels of analysis, demonstrations of zero ability to tolerate a dissenting point of view, requirements that posters telling the truth be censored for doing so, or the warped point of view of someone so scared of the world that they hide at the end of the road, as terrified of what lies beyond it as they are of authority figures, or adversity, or hell, even their own shadow.

You have all the answers you need for the rest of your life. Just some guy nobody remembers, washed away by the passage of time just like his favorite sandwich shop, sitting in some uncleaned shithole with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in another, with neither the time nor inclination to even attempt to escape his own insignificance.


So I think I shall stop bothering your little webshow now. Not quit, because as I have demonstrated, I don't ever really quit, I just have varying levels of activity based on curiosity. And my curiosity around the doomer faking his interest in the topic, alone and besotted at the end of the road, living in self created squalor, has run its course. I know too many people who have ended this way, having wasted their lives and arrived at this end. I've seen this windup many times, I don't have to wait around for the pitch.

Ultimately, the real sorrow is that those people had far less to start with than you, and ultimately, that is the real pity. You had so much raw material to begin with compared to the hillbillies I grew up with, such a grand beginning, and yet ended up in the same place.

I feel pity for you RE, for all the things you could have done but didn't, could have been, but aren't, for having the time and ability to actually change your path but choosing not to. I hope you successfully monetize the Diner and that it makes you happy, or your construction company does, or SUN. Even those worthy of pity might have hopes and dreams that no matter how small or insignificant, if achieved, will make them happy. I hope you find that happiness for yourself, before the end. Thank you for the times you were occasionally honest, as compared to the hyperbole and grandstanding that you use as a defense mechanism against the world. Thank you for the stories you shared with all of us, and the moments where your grandstanding didn't get in the way of an honest argument.

I will probably continue to stop in, but stories are why I began participating here, and there are no more. Good luck becoming the superstar of doom on the internet.