I don't know why I am so inclined this week to look back on the history of clerkmanifesto. Perhaps it was finding all those ancient pictures of fox and skunk from the days of yore.
Picture (for example) of fox and skunk from days of yore:
Trying to think of a post for you this evening I remembered how in the early days of clerkmanifesto I used to talk about how amazingly good clerkmanifesto was. It was a humorous motif in which I passionately praised my own writing to distract readers from how good it was.
It worked really well!
Oh, my lord, it worked like you wouldn't believe!
But just now, there is one reader out there, rubbing their eyes 6,000 fiendishly clever blogposts later, saying "Hey. Wait a minute!"
I was always a singer and maybe no more then that. Sometimes it's not enough to know the meaning of things, sometimes we have to know what things don't mean as well. Like what does it mean to not know what the person you love is capable of? Things fall apart, especially all the neat order of rules and laws. The way we look at the world is the way we really are. See it from a fair garden and everything looks cheerful. Climb to a higher plateau and you'll see plunder and murder. Truth and beauty are in the eye of the beholder. I stopped trying to figure everything out a long time ago.
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