kirschinthefondue

[kirschinthefondue]

Cigarettes

I theoretically quit smoking four weeks ago. But today I smoked several cigarettes because I could not stand being a mental vegetable any longer and needed to know where these stories were going. So I smoked. And I am wondering if I'm just trying to get as much smoking as I can out of my system because I promised myself that I would not smoke once I crossed the line of fifty.

[kirschinthefondue]

Abusive Men in Publishing

There are more abusive men in publishing than you probably know. Their stories are covered up regularly by publicists. Blake Bailey? Who I helped to uncover? Just the tip of the iceberg. Their names somehow evaded the Shitty Media Men list. And they are still around, being lionized by...yes, women. Including, ironically enough, that Donegan person. Even though these men have raped and sexually assaulted women. I tried to stop some of these assholes. What happened? They turned the tables and declared ME the one who was the epitome of toxic masculinity. Take a good hard look at anybody who has been canceled and you will find, in many cases, someone who was trying to do the right thing.

#publishing #men #abuse

[kirschinthefondue]

I Am Not Dead

I know that there are many people who wish for me to be dead and that they really do not understand why they detest me ardently enough to long for my death (even though many members of the media -- to this very day -- have instructed them that the thing to do is to wish me dead and to belittle me at every opportunity).

But I am quite alive, happily so. Regrettable news, I know, for those who are hell-bent on hoping that I croak, for those who were really rooting for me to kill myself in 2014. These same people once loved me. And then it became death-oriented because that was the viral whisper that purred into their many ears. Well, unfortunately for them, I greatly enjoy life and I enjoy living.

Certainly I enjoy living in ways that were simply not within my makeup ten years ago. Which probably infuriates my enemies. But I write for me, not for them. Since I am now ruminating -- in a very uncommon manner, I might add -- upon how a significant number of people in positions of power wish me dead, the one thought on my mind in relation to this cretins is this: "Why on earth are you more interested in me than I am?"

I mean, your obsession with me -- which goes beyond the Schrodinger question -- takes both the box and the biscuit! Is there any way for a detente? Of course not. I am fairly uncompromising and increasingly do not give a fuck. And because everything is permanent in New York media, the idea that I cannot be of use to any corner of society has also become permanent. Until I am actually dead, which appears to be a good twenty to thirty years away (sorry! I'm happy and healthy!), nobody will truly understand their real feelings for me until I go through the motions of living out my late age.

I continue to be extremely prolific in ways that those who wish me dead could never dream of, in ways that those who long for me to stay alive are extremely happy about. I have had assholes like Anil Dash not only lie about what I have actually done, but who have emailed me with the sincere hope that I would throw myself off a bridge.

What causes such reactions? Nothing that I have written has been any less provocative than anybody else of my type. Well, it's because I get through to audiences . It's because people enjoy what I have to say. And if you have a voice, this is what infuriates those who don't. And even though I would have likely gotten along with these people over a beer (as I do with most people, being quite congenial), these people said, "No, Ed. Dead!" Because it was easier than viewing me as a human being.

So I have returned to Tumblr without announcement -- a true old school move -- to engage in some kind of weird autofiction that will undoubtedly be unread or, if it is read, conveniently misinterpreted.

I have two months of life in my forties. And then I am fifty. Fifty is the line in society in which you are definitely invisible. In which nobody cares for you. It's warming you up for the later years in which you rot away in a rest home with senescence. It tells you, without a shred of nuance, "Yes, you are starting to die. It begins in life like this. And it is a slow and terrible process. May you have the confidence and humor to soldier through this late stage. Because it's a fucking doozy." Well, I do. Not giving a fuck truly helps.

#death #aging #over40 #over50

[kirschinthefondue]

The Return?

Wow, it appears that Tumblr decided to delete all of my posts even as it pestered me by email to login in order to retain my account.  With services like these, who needs enemies?  Nevertheless, I am putting up this placeholder post in an attempt to sustain the claim on my subdomain, even as my faith in Tumblr is nil at best.  Hello to anyone still following this!