Before I break down, lose all my cool, and prepare a blog based around The Kinks song “Where Have All The Good Times Gone,” I thought it would be preferable and possibly therapeutic to examine why "comparisons are invidious."
I use that expression (become sort of a cliché) often because it seems frequently to apply these contentious days where the worst are definitely filled with passionate intensity and popular humor has devolved into endless repeated expressions of dark-hearted sarcasm and assertions of personal and "affinity group" superiority.
It’s difficult to imagine how cerebral, sometimes surreal,
comedians like George
Burns and Gracie Allen, Jack Benny and even Jackie Gleason (who
combined delicately robust physicality with humane, socially conscious, character humor)
would be able to find audiences in this ur-ugly time.
When I say a comparison is invidious, it's usually triggered by someone's apples/oranges analogy mistakes, but I am also sometimes telling my daughter, who is at the stage where kids compare their lot in life to everyone else’s and find fault at home, that it is generally better to shelve those thoughts because they’re unreliable and impractical.
That being said, “physician, heal thyself,” applies to me as much as to anyone else and during this straitened, enervating period I am hardly illusion or envy-free.
Therefore,
when I discovered the other day that a local person I have known for years, someone who on paper might arouse all
sorts of personal and professional jealousy, is in a hideous
amount of personal and professional trouble, his name daily typeset large all over the agora, trouble that is likely to ruin him,
I was nonplussed.
As always is the case, the signs (which in retrospect appear as large as roadside billboards) were there all along that trouble was waiting for him. Now that it has arrived in a first-class carriage and exploded, I wonder how we’ll all feel once the big bang shock has worn off?
Personally, I already feel a little wiser and more secure about myself and my own instincts, ethics, and capacity to self-generate appropriate apprehensions of fear and a sense of consequences.
As always is the case, the signs (which in retrospect appear as large as roadside billboards) were there all along that trouble was waiting for him. Now that it has arrived in a first-class carriage and exploded, I wonder how we’ll all feel once the big bang shock has worn off?
Personally, I already feel a little wiser and more secure about myself and my own instincts, ethics, and capacity to self-generate appropriate apprehensions of fear and a sense of consequences.
As for the small but significant horde who formerly danced attendance on
this man, some are already probably looking for new sources of gossip and backs to
stab and bite; others will simply deny the
significance of their prior relationship or claim they were never ever
deceived.
Say your prayers. Amen.
Say your prayers. Amen.









