I don't think the editors would like that, as I only write for local outlets, now. The two weekly articles cover city council and county commissioners' meetings. The monthly gig comes all of a sudden, usually toward the end of the month. I'll get an email from the editor, and he'll tell me the 4-8 stories he wants covered. He email me at night and ask for them first thing the next morning, but lately he's given me 1-2 days. He has a bent for salacious and fomenting stuff, which I refuse to do. I think we finally settled that I am only volunteering for him and therefore I have a right to reject anything that obsturbs my conscience. I compromise too much even so.

In the weekly stuff, our town, like so many others, had a white-on-black police crime, which now dominates public meetings, forces retirements, and demands changes to organizational structure. Nothing is said about how many black-on-white, or other color combinations of crime have occurred. Race-baiters want to use the media to stir up trouble. A couple weeks ago, I wrote about their bad logic. If an interracial crime occurs, they want to draw a line in the sand and make all people of one color fight against all people of another color. They foster group-think in which people forsake their own conscience and sense of propriety, and defer to the great fictitious collective conscience, which is actually the mind of the race-baiter. I said in that article that fallacy fuels political discussions, don't you think?

So much at the meetings was incendiary, and I did not want to be a tool by repeating things that were going to trigger readers. I'm idiotic enough to be useful.

I thank you for your kind offer, but while my writing and mental processing and insights are nowhere near yours, I suffer the sin of pride in that I insist on doing my own work. However, if you are interested in Asheville's government, why don't you contact my editors and ask for my gigs? I also write for a business magazine, and that job actually pays.

Enough of my resume. The good news is, I finished my articles with half a day to spare. I wondered what hit me. It was miraculous. Now, I get to work on corporate taxes. Ick. Ick. Ick. I opened a can of soup, and it went all over, including on the forms.

I saw an awesome video yesterday that made me cry. I won't post it here because it had political and religious themes.

Oh, it was just a modern version of the Good Samaritan, appropriately politically-incorrect. It is always sad to see somebody get hurt, if only in concept; it is weepy to see mercy in action.

I've got a stupid 343-page city plan to read and summarize by Saturday. I'm a very slow reader.

On the bright side, I met my first round of deadlines. I was a joke last night. I was on the floor, and I kept hitting the snooze alarm because I'm so lazy anymore. As faith and mercy would have it, I got the stuff done by 8am. Whilst on the floor, I dreamed I was hanging out with Mitt Romney, though.

You are correct that I do not serve in righteousness. I serve. I also heard the statistic about charges outliving their caregivers. What I don't like is having this 343-page monstrosity to read and the boss taking half an hour to study his notes to decide what he wants for a snack, while I stand at attention. There's got to be a better way. A common theme in my life is that normal people don't understand how it will take me several hours to read the report, so they think I can do something stupid, like hold Magic Markers for them ... I keep telling myself in about twenty years I won't be able to move or think straight. Then what?

I liked this job for the flexibility it offered. I put up with guff, but then I'd think, Yeah, but I'll get two weekdays off to see Justin in a couple months." But seriously. Who plans a class reunion in the middle of a Justin tour? They reunite at the same hotel every year, otherwise, I'd try to 'suade them to go to Connecticut.