Life is so complicated I could cry. You have ijits like me and Ben Carson who can't get our facts straight no matter how hard we try, and then you have ultra high geniuses like Justin and John who know all and see all and twist it all to pieces. In the end, everything comes out wrong.

In my experience, everybody is perfect until I come along and victimize them. (This flu or organ failure has been going on for three weeks, and I'm still not detoxified. If it keeps up, I'm gonna lose all my vitamins and all my hair before the evil humours leave.)

But still, maybe it is just part of my curse to have fallen among who knows what, but it seemed ten years ago, people were pursuing truth and beauty and love, and now the stupider the task, the more excited people get about assigning it to me. I have to give them the benefit of a doubt, because I'm the crazy ijit.

And thus I expose my double-mindedness - thinking I'm right when everybody says I'm wrong. At least nobody's kicking me in the head and out of bed. I sleep in my car or on the floor.

The good news is, I got so frustrated with my incompetence and stupidity, I keyed my face into a nice piece of ground beef. I was stopped for having a bloody face and tied up traffic as I was detained by five patrol cars, two ambulances, and the Army reserves until admissions papers could be prepared to haul me to the funny farm.