It's not very obvious (then again maybe it is, who knows with these things) that if left unchecked, I would most probably write diatribes the length of which would be equivalent to a cross-country road trip, with no stops in between and with all the sentences running into one another fender-bender-style in a rush of impatience. This could be on almost any subject I feel strongly about (and scarily enough, sometimes not even). Fortunately, as with all road trips, there is a destination, and the diatribe, I'm sure, would eventually come to an end, maybe by page 28,946? (The number has no significance, sorry to disappoint)
However, given the way things are going where I'm residing, I'm afraid I could very well be left griping for a good long time. I'm talking till the cows-come-home long. Or when the fat lady shows off her vocal chops. My bet's on the lady.
Anyway, all this to say that I'm thankful for a blogger whose guts I've admired since I was a school-going kid (he didn't actually blog then, but he hosted a radio program). A blogger who doesn't care to mince words much and without affecting an air of pretension, he gets to the core of the issues at hand using rough-and-tumble colloquilism. His blog manages to express what I would if I could. By could, I mean if I intend to remain sedentary for eternity griping to you through this blog. And oh yeah, I would also need balls of steel -- this country actually locks you up for saying the "wrong" things.
So anyway, I was catching up on his posts today when the realization (and the raison d'être for this post) hit –- because he articulates what I couldn't, I actually come away from his site feeling vented, less frustrated and usually with a chuckle to tide me over. Generally a good thing. More importantly? He cusses so I don't have to.
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