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Not quite dead. Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated — by me.

I guess my erratic behavior deserves some kind of explanation. (On the other hand, maybe it doesn't.) Here goes: I still mean every word of my self-proclaimed demise. I hate what's happening to America. But there are a lot of hours in the day. I can work, I can save money, I can prepare to expatriate, and there is still a little time left over to bitch and moan, to wave my cyberfist at the self-inflicted tragedy that is GOP America.

It's an addiction, this thing we call blog. The odd reality is that at some point over the past three years the habit took hold of me and acts like it doesn't want to let go. Throughout these last eight weeks that followed my pompous announcement of retirement I have been jonesing to return. I come upon a fact about Ken Lay that deserves repetition and I know it will go ignored not only by the mainstream media but most of the blogosphere as well. So I post it anyway. God help me, I cannot control myself.

So fuck it, I'm back. At least partially. Maybe not as often as before or as prolific as the Greater Bloggers Among Us, but not exactly dead, either.

It was a fun funeral but a nerve-wracking burial. I'll return all your flowers and gifts as soon as I can, I swear.

(Please also help me in re-welcoming the recently resurrected No More Mister Nice Blog to the re-blogosphere.)

{ 10:50 AM }

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