With a few exceptions, I seem to be the only one who is jousting with this writhing, twisting nitwit. It occurs to me that I am playing "Don Quixote" here, tilting, not against an intelligent adversary. but against a mere windmill which is creaking loudly, waving its arms, and showing no signs of intelligence whatsoever.

It's obvious that I'm wasting my time. This is not a sentient being. Therefore, I will henceforth leave him to writhe, twist, and wave his arms—and emit creaking noises. I have better things to do with my time. Talk to real people, exchange messages here with intelligent, well-meaning individuals on various subjects, spend some much-needed time practicing my music, and get back to a couple of writing projects.

Now, Goofball will undoubtedly cackle and squeal that he has won the day because I choose to vacate the field of battle, but I think any intelligent, thinking individual can easily see that I quit the lists out of sheer disgust with the pig-headedness, lack of intelligence, and rampant bigotry I am foolish enough to waste my time on.

Watch for him to crow like a rooster who thinks it's HIS CROWING that makes the sun come up.

The more fool me for even thinking I was talking to a sentient being, and for wasting my time trying to get it to see reason when it has proven incapable of rational thought.

Ta ta!

Don Firth

P. S. I may or may not be back, but for now I grow weary of dealing with sheer, voluntary stupidity. I have to practice a bit this afternoon. There is a ballad I want to learn.