Requiem(s)

I just finished my fourth Gerstel, a non-alcoholic beer, in lieu of coffee, and no one will note or any discernible difference. I will have to edit my posts about my sister at some point, but she and I are estranged over money; (and this remains the case in the onset of winter 2012, my sister obliterating that her lack of support accentuated my distress) with my half-brother it is different; he and I are now estranged over his basement in North Carolina, (though the gulf has widened) which was never my best option to begin with, but was not Presby, the parent company I live under, and I pushed the envelope, not on Facebook, but still, in a virtual matrix, and I am feeling sorry about it, just like a real human being would. This happens with families with nursing home eligibles like myself, and I was hoping it wouldn't, laughing at my interior picture of twitter or LiveJournal falling over themselves to rush to my rescue, buying me the study of Andre Dubus, perhaps, in some Cinderella ending, despite my lack of requisite and docile loveliness required for such closure.

I was trying to stay awake to review In The Company of Men again, once more for free on Antenna TV, with that amusing retroactive golden age voice over, but even if I pushed, unwisely, to do so, my somnolent state of being probably couldn't keep up with Aaron Eckhart, who I find to be a wickedly sexual satirist. I have resisted discussing Stacy Edwards' supporting character, whose deafness makes Eckhart's satirical skill a delicious pain, within the usual paradigm, but this black comedy defies such paradigms. Sometimes I have to allow films to saturate, much like photosynthesis.

Despite the fact that I'm on deadline, I'll see you tonight, assurances in the technology being what they are, though I do not know which hat I'll be wearing.  Self-contradictions being what it is, I am both more vulnerable and far worse than I let on, though I cannot know how many reading these entries divines this fact.