Dearest Hillie,
How many years has it been, my good friend, since we were last in solid correspondence? It seems almost yesterday that we parted ways, and yet, years and years since we have last spoken. I have greatly enjoyed your words of wisdom, your splendid thoughts in written form, for they remind me all too well of my own poor dreams and observances of the world at large. Indeed, it seems a shame that I have not begun a weblog of mine own, though I have not for some time been moved to pick up pen and paper (or keyboard and screen - alas, in this day and age one cannot even engage in the textural pleasure of a fine fountain pen on clean fresh paper without being thought a fool and a romantic!), blocked, as always, by that inner remonstrance, my personal demon-critic. I wonder, at times such as this, if some aspect of predestiny did not direct my hand to your sphere of internet influence (though Jacobus Arminius must be turning in his grave - Remonstrance and Predestination in consecutive sentences!). I find myself inspired to take up the mantle of the written word, to join you in mutual Satrean nausea placed on display for all of the world to see.
Your Comrade in Arms,
Xavier P. Royce
Anonymous
You see, dear reader? Those who resist and refuse to go gently can combine arms, are reinvigorated by the sight and sounds of others who are responsive to the cause. I have not heard from my good friend Xavier for many years (oh, the adventures we once had! A story for another time, dear reader), and I cannot help but agree with him that his chance encounter with these half-formed ideas, these semi-meaningless scribbles, was actually a kind of fate, a re-awakening that brings me reckless joy and great hope for the future. Remember, dear reader, that we are all afflicted with that great sickness, the loathing that eats at us from both within and without. It was neither luck nor stray fluke that led you to these web pages; it was something more, a grain, a pattern, a groove that we must follow in some direction. We must find where this path leads, and we must do it together. Remonstrance! Vigilance! Time and time again, despite setbacks, we will move forward, or die in the process. And what a death! What glory and honour!
As a sidenote, I do, however, resent the comparison (or even the proximity!) to that lazy-eyed existentialist fool. I have nothing but the greatest disdain for the French and their pompous worms of nothingness, their nausea and endless sit-ins and boycotts and protests. They will never cut these fingers off. I will forever draw my bow and fire my arrow true, striking to the heart of their ineffectual and flaccid purports: “Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being…” Ha! I scoff and spit at their feet. At least the savage has no pretensions.
