I'm Back for Good!
Scroll down to the bottom of this post. Do it now. I will wait.
Can you believe your eyes? Do you feel as though they are deceiving you? They are. And they aren't. Because, yes, indeed, I am BACK! Arlo Harshenstein, that irascible counterpoint to Nostradamus, has returned from his o'er hasty retirement.
You see, once I stopped blogging, I stopped reading blogs. Pretty soon I wasn't spending much time on the internet at all. I began to read books, take long walks on sunset evenings over covered bridges, and, strangely, to soften. It was like my psychiatrist hippy parents were right all along; the whimsical spirit of my namesake, and his brilliant film Alice's Restaurant, had invaded my soul. Soon I found myself engaged in what I would previously have described as horrible pursuits: campfire singing, leave-no-trace camping, birding... I was at a total remove from my former, hard won urban bitterness. On top of this, my coworkers actually began to take notice of me, even going so far as to invite me to their pitiful social gatherings after work. To my extended horror I even enjoyed myself!
As you have probably gathered, this miraculous transformation could not last, and yet my reversion began innocently enough. I received an invitation to a jazz gig performed by one "Nostradamus Marquis," a personage with whom I had been at complete odds for well over a year prior. I took this missive as an olive branch (and not, as I more rightly should have, as one of the exigencies of e-mail listservs), and I even intended, in my new spirit of friendliness, to attend one of these "performances" should I find myself in the neighborhood. But before I had a chance to catch up with my old chum in person, I decided to peruse my old stomping-grounds, if only for nostalgia's sake.
Upon calling up the familiar URL, I must say I felt only two emotions: shock and awe. My departure had obviously initiated an enormous drop off in both the quantity and quality of blog posts. I mean, check out the posts from May... Uh, notice there are only two of them and they are both about The Sopranos (way to break out of the MSM mold Nostra)? Oh, and that they both blow in terms of writing? Sure, Nos was dead on about how the show would end, but who gives a fuck? A thousand bloggers on their thousand unread/unreadable blogs no doubt did the same.
No, something had gone drastically awry in my absence. Where was the viciousness, the spite, the total scorn for convention? Where was the tabloid intensity, the stalker-like, fetishistic devotion to topics as unvaried as Terri Schiavo, Natalee Holloway, and Cindy Sheehan? Gone. All gone. In its place, a trifling commentary on the ho-hum scandals du jour completely devoid of any primal edge. It was ugly. Just looking at it, I knew what I had to do. My name isn't a synonym for "rough stone" for no reason!
Soon after my discovery, I found myself feeling differently about my new "friends" from the office. It was a Friday, and I was supposed to meet them at a trendy bar downtown. Needless to say, I stood them up. When one called me to see if I was "ok" I answered my handset, screamed "FUCK OFF!!!!" as loudly and forcefully as I could, and hung up. The following Monday that woman literally shivered as she walked by me near the elevator. Mission accomplished.
So I'm back, and I'm as bitchy and full of spite and resentment for everyone and everything as I ever ever ever was. Oh, and I'm still conservative as hell, in case you were wondering.