We Walk Close And Eclipse.

So I don't have an agent or PR or anything like it actually. And I really hate to sound smug, but I'm basically above it. Stratospherically if I have to say.

But I don't mind anticipating a time when it may become necessary to "let sunlight in on the magic" if you will, and as such have been trying to cultivate a kinder gentler side of what is otherwise a withering and seizing mass of judgment and mournful disdain.

Steps have been taken and although I loathe any form of censorship, self-censorship above all, I have reluctantly decided to direct my more inflammatory (that word by the way was thrown my way by a nun about one of my school editorials when I was but an impressionable if reasonably articulate 15 year old) Tweets here.

We are all martyrs to good manners after all, and you are obviously quite welcome:

· Pretty sure he hasn't anything interesting to say about clothes. Will not shut up about Engineered Garments, Cabourn, blah, just discovered yoox & spazzing.

· A politician quoting Ayn Rand makes about as much sense as a chicken quoting Colonel Sanders. #conflictedmuch

· Stressing every last word for emphasis? Using three vague words rhythmically instead of one precise word? Surprise! You're talking like a douche.

· If you stand around asking people you don't know to buy you shit, that makes you a beggar, not a bride.

· Why must we now wait for the nod from some glorified mob boss before we decide to irrevocably destabilize a country. #Putin #Syriahasnofuture

· Madonna is so political. And global. ** Madonna faces swastika lawsuit ** (link)

Apart from good manners, there is just something unrelentingly common about seeming to care about politics. I mean Rachel Maddow does it, but she also wears make-up with a hoodie so it just can't be appropriate as a general principle. She has also just barely started to catch on to shit she should have 4 years ago, but I'm not going to pretend like I'm paying attention no.

Probably should mention that that up-talking, rhythmic narrative spouting bitch annoys even if I largely agree with everything she says, but would never admit to it in mixed company. Which is what this is for.

Where my more uncivil and ill-mannered mutterings can be the least conspicuous.

Peace.

And... John Stewart is a barely literate frat-boy whose jubilee rant bordered on half-disguised homophobic pantomime. Crashing douche of a cosmic degree.