Because of my refusal to turn this blog into the narcissistic masturbatory excesses of many blogs, I have never told you about myself. But some one recently pointed out to me that I should declare myself, at least a little, so my readers can apply the appropriate label to me and thus decide whether my views are worth attending to. It’s a valid point, so here is a little information.
I was born on the lower east side. Of Hoboken. As a young boy I ran away from home twice; the first time to the neighbors’, the second to sea. I was first mate on the Pequod which led me to write my first book, Moby Dick, which I self-published under a pseudonym. Later I went to college. I would have gone to Harvard but they sent me a nice letter telling me how happy they were to be maintaining their high academic standards so they hoped I would find a nice technical school to attend. But I got into a real college, graduated, and determined to go to law school. Harvard once again declined my services so I was forced to attend another law school. But I dated someone who did go to Harvard. It didn’t work out. I hadn’t invented Viagra yet and she believed that size matters.
After graduating from law school, I served — under another pseudonym; I have a passion for anonymity — as Supreme Court Justice Hugo Black.
More recently I have taken up blogging. You may have read my other blog, The Huffington Post, which I write by myself.
I died of old age and was cremated. My ashes were spread over the Rocky Mountains from a high altitude. Some got caught on the wind and landed on the Washington Monument. They may still be there. I intend to look the next time I’m in D.C.