Not with a Bang But a Whimper
Posted by harlan on 08 May 2008 at 07:42 am | Tagged as: talking to the void
I was expecting Bertha to come over last night at the very least to talk about the letter I sent. And I wasn’t sure how I would respond. Perhaps I’d send her on her way. Perhaps she would confess her undying love for me. Perhaps we’d make love one more time for closure. I hoped to stand my ground.
I sat around waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting . . . for my phone to ring or for the door to swing open. At around 10:30, Bertha texted me:
got yr ltr. thx cutie. very sweet. must say no. luv always. b
I have to admit her message disappointed me on a number of levels. Actually, “disappointed” is the wrong word. I think “infuriated” is closer to the mark. I thought I was getting my head around a break-up, and now I’m mad.
It can’t end that way. I have to do something.
I didn’t get what I want.
You? Really do something? Is that even possible? Why don’t you just get drunk or go steal something, as usual? Honestly, man, you should be celebrating. Go set off some fireworks or go back to Las Vegas or run some red lights or something.
May I suggest a chainsaw suicide to demonstrate your love? http://www.ketv.com/news/4017417/detail.html
Chainsaw suicide?
[checks hyperlink]
Yipes!
Harlan,
don’t listen to alll these idiots on here. Don’t listen to me either. I consider my self very similar to you and this is what I would do and have done when some bitch lets you down like this. Go find this Fed-ex lady and do everything in your power to have sex with her, a nice ass like hers will make you forget B real fast. If fed-ex girl says no go drop some benjamins on a high price hooker. It will be so worth it for you. Way better than 10,000 on a computer. When I say I have done this before I have only done it twice once with I did score with the serriously hot girl the next time I struck out and got a high priced hooker. Both totally worth it!
regards
jeff
I’d say a text message is about the third rudest way to break up with someone. (The first two are by driving away and leaving the dumped party stranded without a ride home and by telling your friends to tell you… at least in my personal experience) So that sucks. Infuriated is a reasonable response for sure.
Thanks, Harlan. If you don’t mind, I’ll borrow your post’s title for this, my final comment. Before I get to the main topic, though — me — I should offer condolences on your love life. Then again, could it all be for the best? Anyway…
When you’re awake at 3AM asking painful questions of yourself, composing comebacks, and theorizing about the state of human relations in the Web 2.0 age, all because of some stupid blog comment, you know it’s time for a change. In words I just heard, it’s time to get a life. However, just like the guy who’s starting a diet tomorrow, I’ll have one last pigout meal. For those of you saying “here we go again,” you don’t have to read on.
I was all set yesterday to call Asshat a nitwit for pretending to confuse Emily with Angie, but that would have been sour grapes. Just because his compact observations on Harlan’s dog story carried more weight than my own turgid ones at thrice the verbage (thanks for noticing, Chuck) that doesn’t mean I should take it out on him. It was something Chuck said later, though, that really hit home. I was preening.
I had thought a while ago that here in the land of misfit toys I could be a little odd and still fit in. We’ve all got problems, right? Would we be here otherwise, either trying in vain to help poor Harlan or piling on against him in condescension? For once, though, I won’t pretend to know what anyone else’s real problems are. My own list is long: voted by classmates as the one most likely to be punched out for “knowing it all”, tone deaf as a writer, melodramatic, thin-skinned, yet self-indulgent enough to write a long comment like this imagining anyone might read it.
Harlan himself, the supposed poster boy for dysfunction, seems headed in the right direction. For one thing (modulo last night), he doesn’t seem as inclined to play strip solitaire anymore. I think once he transitions his cyber self into the real world, he’ll be fine. It’s riskier, there’s less distance, but he seems close to making real connections. H, despite starting off on the wrong foot, you know I’m pulling for you.
I’ll miss others of you, too. That’s especially true of anyone who smiled at my limericks. As for my detractors, I’m going to imagine some of you are a single author. For instance, Cuttheshit sounds a lot like Lilly. (Oh, and I can assure you, even in the throes of an identity crisis, neither of us has ever been the other.) Certain cutting remarks I’ll ascribe to electronic emboldening and concomitant anonymity. It’s like flipping the bird to another driver for a bonehead move that you’d have let slide had you been face-to-face. Please recognize the kindness of my own overblown response here, giving you even more ammunition in seeing me out.
A long benediction for a welcome overstayed, I know. Have I learned anything? I’m not sure. Victor Shklovsky, the Russian Formalist, argued that the essential purpose of art is to overcome the deadening effects of habit by representing familiar things in unfamiliar ways. As I take my leave I wonder if “unfamiliar” can become just too fucking weird. That said, I suspect we all could have done more to play nice.
Arrivederci,
Your earnest friend, E
Oh dear. I’m sorry if I’ve been rude, Ernest. You’re right about the in-the-car anonymity thing. I really did like your poems. Your prose is a little grating (and there’s too much of it) but it’s not quite as annoying as Asshat’s pretended confusion of Emily and Angie. BTW, Asshat you nitwit, it was “Police Woman,” not “Police Story.”
maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get a bang and a whimper.
WTF
Ernest - I really dig (dug?) your comments, personally. Awww.
Harlan - please enlighten us as to your next plan of attack.
i think what you should do is move on, to the fed ex girl jeff suggests, or lets have buzz come back and see what damage he can do!!
Ernest is Harlan:
“…melodramatic, thin-skinned, yet self-indulgent enough to write a long comment like this imagining anyone might read it.”
Ernest, come back…Ernest…
Seriously, E, I’ve been dropping your stuff at various meetings I have to go to, and that shit just blows people away. People look at me a bit strangly, but in an admiring way: impressed and intimidated ’cause they don’t know what’ I’m talking about.
I’ve doubled my business since I’ve been using your 1897 English Professor (without the accent) persona. I’m telling you it’s gold, so if you stop commenting here, will you send me emails with some drops I can use?
Nice going numbnuts. So your first lay, and you figure it’s time to get all posessive, cause after all you are in a “relationship” and you demand more. Who could blame you, with all your amazing relationship experience, it was right of you to demand B do exactly as you wanted, I mean, look at the fucking prize she is getting! I’m not saying B is exactly the catch of the year, but hey, at least she’s getting laid on a regular basis, and will continue to do so, which by default I’d say will make her happier in the long run that our man H here.
Back to the porn for you, little man!
Oh, and the chainsaw suicide idea, too funny, but it would go a long way to showing B how committed you are, well were anyway.
Joe
Well, I’ll certainly never hear the words “Victor Shklovsky” without remembering Ernest.
Ernest: Honestly dude - TLDR!! I could only get through a few paragraphs and gave up. I’ll have to save it for later.
Didnt Ernest already do a “goodbye” comment. For the love of god, either leave or stay. Stop posting the lame ass farewell posts.
Wow, I was going to write something along the lines of “How old is Bertha, like 15?” But it seems like Earnest has taken over this post for himself. Weirdo.
Ernest, you can check out any time you’d like, but you can never leave.
It can’t end that way. I have to do something.
Oh, but it can, Harlan. It can end with just this kind of off-hand, fuck-you shit. Welcome to the pain that goes with opening yourself up to love. The only useful thing you can do is move on.
But I’ll still be coming back to see what you decide is an appropriate course of action. Though…”appropriate” may not be the best description…
Is a poorly spelled text message in all lower case complete with txt jrgn worse than a post-it note? I think so. H, you need a rebound where you can be the dumper not the dumpee. Try to choose someone who deserves it.
E, I read the entire thing and I’ll probably read it through again when I get home from school. Do come visit me often, won’t you? There’s always room for verbosity, pedantry and polysyllabism where I live.
I tried to read all the comments preceeding mine, but I got lazy so this might be repeditive or contradictive -
To me so far your depiction of B to date has never made her seem like a person you had anything in common with, just a female that paid you attention so you took it and mistook that for someone you could really have a relationship with.
If I were you and a girl did that to me I would be just as infuriated. Hell, I’m infuriated FOR you. I kind of want to fuel the fire and tell you to send back an abusive message, but I think I agree with quite a few other people here when they say let it go. She’s not worth your time.
I thought I was the only one who ever got rid of a girl by being too possessive. I did it deliberately. To this day she thinks that she dumped me.
FK
I knew this would happen.
Ernest, did you really say “sour grapes?”
Oh for fuck sake Ernest, everybody knows you and Harlan et al are one. Your feeble attempts at sounding like the consummate intellect are nauseating. Author sees that the Ernest thing wasn’t working so he/she will simply create another annoying cheerleader for Harlan.
Perhaps it’s time to start another blog. Oh wait, you already have several.
Who can leave a comment after that?
E, I forgot to add that I’m a big fan of your subtle sarcasm. Bring that delicate touch on over to my place, will you? My internet appears to do a better job of translating it. Perhaps because it has a sense of humour? I have fewer misfit toys to play with and they’re more intellectual shape shifters than fixed objects. And, I can’t promise the same level of novel drama. My story is fully entrenched in empirical fact. Perhaps, it’s a little too honest sometimes. Actually, my blog entry will be in your honour tonight.
Moshizzle, I couldn’t have said it better, myself. But it is time for my kind to leave here, too. As the elf said when he found out that the lease on Rivendell would not be renewed, it’s time to hit the highway. Of course, I worship and adore all of you.
please dont buy a gun…
p.s. i will still marry you.
That’s it. Ernest start your own blog.
Ernest has too much time.
H, move on to Mary, she sounds easy.
OK - you’re really going to need to fight that urge! This isn’t going anywhere good.
Let her go and stop smoking dip-shit
wtf? I was so excited about this blog when I found it. It could have gone to great places but is now just a disappointment.
Have you ever noticed Harlen isn’t so very alone on a friday night???