I will now delete the post below entitled “Dear Morgaan Sinclair”, and this very curious chapter in the recent history of this humble little blog tucked away in some interstice amid the millions of other blogs on this vast ocean called the Internet will be closed—hopefully; unless (employing now my imperfect artistic imagination, which could have no correspondence in the real world) another cyclonic welter of winds out of nowhere coalesce and a Hurricane Morgaan starts sending cows, tractors and legal papers flying once again. This latter possibility (anything is possible when dealing with a person who in my imperfect estimation (which could be incorrect) from having encountered many strange people on the Net over the past six years, seems (from my imperfect estimation, which could be incorrect) to take the cake as being the most singularly... just a second, readers, I need to consult the entry for “daft” in my Roget’s Thesaurus... let’s see... loony is good; or unhinged I like; or demented has a nice ring; or frenzied; or phrenetic; or bereft of reason; or maddened; or moonstruck; or shatterpated (nice one!); or crackbrained; or tetched (reaching back into the 18th century on that one); or dithyrambic (conjuring up some Victorian doctor who might prescribe for it some ghastly pre-modern cure); or vertiginous; or mad as a March hare would do just splendidly; or the good old mad as a hatter; or... I think in my imperfect estimation (which could be incorrect) that stark staring freaking fucked up in the head about sums it up—[to try to recover the hopelessly tangled grammatical thread of my sentence]: ...Net personage I have in my imperfect estimation (which could be incorrect) ever seen on the Net—and that’s saying a lot, seeing how many wackos and kooks inhabit the billions of interstices on the Net. And so, that is why I will keep copies, in my own private files, of all the aspects of this curious spate of wild weather on my largely insignificant little blog.
I neglected to add above that I left the letter which I posted to Morgaan Sinclair on my blog, Dear Morgaan Sinclair, on my blog for approximately 35 hours, from approximately 4:00 a.m. June 3 to 3:00 p.m. June 4, Eastern time. As I said in that letter, it seems eminently reasonable that this amount of time should be sufficient for Ms. Sinclair—and/or her army of apparently influential individuals who, in my imperfect comprehension (which could be incorrect), she claimed were assiduously and regularly monitoring my blog—to have seen that letter, read it, and digested its contents, which informed her that, at the time I published that letter (approximately 4: a.m. of June 3, Eastern time), I had done what, in my imperfect comprehension (which could be incorrect), she had been repeatedly commanding me to do; to wit, that I had deleted all essays on my blog that referred to her and had also rendered all comments on my blog publically invisible (since, as I explained in that letter, I do not know how to delete comments on my blog at all, let alone have I figured out how to delete certain comments while leaving others extant); and that, finally, I would at the end of approximately 20 hours (which turned out to be 35 hours), I would also delete the letter itself, in the quite possible expectation—in my imperfect comprehension (which could be incorrect)—that that letter itself too must have itself presented, in my imperfect comprehension (which could be incorrect) of her probable perception, another horrifically apocalyptic and “gendercidal” (if not, hey, let’s go all the way) genocidal attack on her person and good name.