Happy?

If anyone actually wonders things about me (which is a thing to doubt) I imagine many wonder why I'm not happier.  I'm funny, but anyone who has ever read or heard the life story of a comedian knows those two things really don't have anything to do with one another.  Hell, angst seems to be humor's best fuel.

I have my issues.  I have things I have to cope with.  I do suffer from depression, although the better things get in my life the less it comes up.  (I'm saying it's not always clinical depression...I'm usually at my darkest when life is at it's worst.)

That said, I'm incredibly blessed.  I have the most amazing wife in the world, the world's best stinky little dog, good friends, all the necessities of life and more.  All that, and yet I'm not one of those sunny, cheery people full of optimism and positive thoughts.

The source of my pseudonym has a bit of the answer that I'll share with you now. If anyone does wonder, this may help with that.

“Sometimes the man who looks happiest in town, with the biggest smile, is the one carrying the biggest load of sin. There are smiles & smiles; learn to tell the dark variety from the light. The seal-barker, the laugh-shouter, half the time he's covering up. He's had his fun & he's guilty. And all men do love sin, Will, oh how they love it, never doubt, in all shapes, sizes, colors & smells. Times come when troughs, not tables, suit appetites. Hear a man too loudly praising others & look to wonder if he didn't just get up from the sty. On the other hand, that unhappy, pale, put-upon man walking by, who looks all guilt & sin, why, often that's your good man with a capital G, Will. For being good is a fearful occupation; men strain at it & sometimes break in two. I've known a few. You work twice as hard to be a farmer as to be his hog. I suppose it's thinking about trying to be good makes the crack run up the wall one night. A man with high standards, too, the least hair falls on him sometimes wilts his spine. He can't let himself alone, won't let himself off the hook if he falls just a breath from grace.” Something Wicked This Way Comes - Ray Bradbury

It's certainly not the whole of it, but it's a part.  The weight of your actions, the weight of your temptations.

Gun Control?

I'm sure some people who have read me for years are waiting for me to say something about the gun control issue. I don't really have anything to say because the whole concept is so completely stupid that it shouldn't even warrant conversation. Same people are now saying we need to censor violent video games. Next thing, we'll be back to editing comic books and rock and roll records. It's a continuation of the culture that nobody is ever to blame for what they do, and I have zero interest in engaging anyone who actually thinks banning/controlling -anything- will stop things like Sandy Hook. If you're one of those people, I pity you, and have no idea how you make it through every day life.

Version 2.0

It may be the influenza thinking, but I'm starting this back up. Not as a strictly sociopolitical outlet, but a standard blog. Facebook does a lousy job of meeting that need, as I have much I'd like to say without being engaged by people desperately looking to meet their quota of people argued with on the internet in a given day. Facebook will be for social networking. This will be for blogging. Quite simple, really. If you read something you don't like here, stop reading. Unlike Facebook it won't just 'appear' on your list, you have to come over here and intentionally read it. Those who like it, cool. Those who don't, I'm sure there are dozens of memes involving cats or Obama or Gangnam Style that you'd just love to rage at, head back to them and work out your yayas.