Ned's many friends may well wonder and fret, even agonize, at Ned's hiatus of twelve days, part of which was spent with Young Ned watching a couple of sports teams compete in an Undisclosed eastern city. But Ned confesses to be in a bit of what the French used to call a kind of a nouvelle vague. He has excoriated the rich and powerful Sneering Plutocracy and he can well imagine that they are grinding their teeth in impotent rage at the power of Ned's barbs. He has pointed out the foibles of puffed up narcissists, from congresspersons, to Republican governors, to dog owners. He has bemoaned the apparent conversion of Barack Obama into a moderate Republican. And now, like Balboa on the shores of the Pacific, he wonders if there are new fields to conquer, new oceans to discover. Of course, with the political silly season about to begin, the Republican presidential "candidates" will no doubt provide virtually unlimited absurdities to lambaste, but to Ned that is akin to shooting the proverbial fish in a barrel.
So perhaps, as Voltaire was said to remark, it is best to ignore the morons for a while and cultivate one's garden.
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