Remember the Microsoft commercial with the deaf girl signing in the Bill Gates utopian sense, that there were no disabilities online? It is not true. I am alienated wherever I go, no matter whom I talk to, or what I do, barring a stranger's lack of familiarity. It may be what I get for hanging out with pompous assholes who flatter themselves over rhetorical expertise and treating early experts as a vocabulary which cannot be entered into without wearily cataloged diligence, but my point isn't about the electronic social cut; it's about belonging. I still want to fit in somewhere. The Jewish museum-- well, what did I expect, especially if I can't contact my Jewish cousins for cover?
I was banned by Poets & Writers, and allowed The Literature Network to repeat the process, I can never reconcile with disability activists in Philadelphia, and after oh, 15 years of posts with literary instructors on a group list, I get bitch slapped every time I assert myself. And my family? Well-- you know what that's like. I'm very depressed-- no, wrong sensibility.
Inchoate flailing. It occurred to me that the poster who once had the idea of Ulysses being a Cubist novel may have thought my response was an insult. Said response was more like a yelp, given my hostility to an exercise Joyce himself described as a "damned long novel."
Now you understand why purists kill intellectuals when they have a coup and bear responsibility for genocidal routs.
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