Look upon the shameful dates of the posts beneath this one. Yes—go ahead, look; I’m showing you my scars, and you are obliged by a mixture of pity and morbid curiosity to humor me. Like that bunion Grandma keeps forcing you to examine every Thanksgiving.
Lo, it has been long since the National Evil spewed forth invective, praise (OK, mostly invective), and wonder upon the world. What have I been up to, you wonder?
1. Writing (non-blog division);
2. Gradually drifting off to an unbridgeable distance between popular culture and my desperately flailing, outstretched arms;
3. Battling evil!*
*Yes, for the National Evil to battle evil is problematic in a travelling-back-in-time-and-accidentally-crushing-your-great-grandfather-with-your-time-machine kind of way.
Anyway, let’s focus on 1. I’ve been writing novels. My first love, my one true passion. I hope you get to read one someday.
In the meantime, the National Evil isn’t dead dead; like the Cthulhu of blogs, it simply waits dreaming. Continue to worship at its unholy alter, for it shall return . . .