|I have to be honest.|
June 1 2001 at 2:40 PM
Response to Near-Zero: An Essay
|I noticed several things about this essay. First, the standard of writing quality has noticably fallen off. It wasn't crummy, but it was far from your best work. Perhaps it's just me, but some of the allegories and metaphors seemed forced and artificial. Overall, the feeling I get during and after reading it was rather unlike anything else you've written, and that disturbed me. I have never once felt sorry for you Oscar. One time, when you wrote about yourself in the third person or some such thing (I forget the details of the essay, precisely), I kind of suspected you wanted to clear your conscience or shuffle off some guilt, but I've never actually felt bona fide pity. |
In this case, however, I felt the previous essay was more than a bit pathetic, in the literal, almost Greek tragedy sense of the word. Maybe if Mike frequented this place more, his literature-studying ass might be able to actually be pithy and accurate regarding this feeling, and that's assuming he agreed with me, which is anything but a foregone conclusion. No matter. I don't know the details, and it's probably best if you don't say any more, but this essay suggests you're losing your edge...whether it be from lack of sleep, work-related stress, almost getting caught by your wife, the emotional tangles of "Mami the Face", or whatnot. I'm no soothsayer, and have no psychological training apart from Psyche 101. I just call 'em as I see 'em, and as I see things, the Osc who wrote "The Specialist" and "How I Got my Nickname, Oscar" has seemingly left us for parts unknown.
I might very well be mistaken, but I hope he bought a round trip ticket.