I'd trust her implicitly
And think she may own Synchronicity,
But she'll best avoid publicity
If I end these poems on this note of simplicity.
And so we reach the conclusion of this "Month of Lovers" on ToddSeavey.com, a necessary retort to some very ignorant critics erroneously calling me an undateable jerk last year -- including the Washington Post, which some folk, more sensitive than I, might consider reason in itself to feel put-upon.
But like Socrates, I have always known that in some sense no harm can befall a good man. I have never been out for money, glory, or universal acclaim -- just the assurance of always being able to sleep with a sound conscience, something which I suspect many of my critics have never done -- and something I dare say makes me just a little bit dangerous (when necessary) by the sold-out standards of most media and politics types. I think you know that when the time comes for someone to say that the Satanist cyborg transvestite is in the right, and the bipartisan consensus forged by the heroic spilling of the blood of America's most popular movie star is wrong, you can count on me.
So, say any nasty thing you like, creepy-looking hag-duo of the Washington Post gossip column (or Tourette's-like Moe Tkacik of City Paper, or numerous others) -- I was still in the right, protecting potential fellow-victims as yet unknown and probably helping a substantial number of them by putting my little public warning on record…which is the sort of thing good people will stoically do, even when hated and feared by the very world they have sworn to defend.
Speaking of which, let us turn our attention to the exciting philosophical and political upheaval across the world in March's entries, though maybe some prose (just plain prose) about current or future romantic activities will find its way into the mix, too -- either here or on Twitter or Facebook. Collect 'em all to find out!