Albert Sterner: Lost Angel (1932)

" … to keep myself company while I watched my potency and influence evaporate."

Almost in retrospect now, I perceive that much of the material I produced in this series would have been LostOn our incumbent, who seems especially resistant to much beyond relatively mindless memes. Of course, it's always been the case that those anyone feels really need specific information, prove incapable of absorbing its meaning. This difficulty has troubled geniuses as well as idiots, and might well serve as the ultimate dilemma. It might be that anything undertaken expressly for another's good proves incapable of delivering that result. Sarcasm holds an especially special place in this particular pantheon, for it, above all other literary forms, proves least likely for the one needing its message to receive it. A boss once confided to me that there is no place in business for sarcasm. It might be that there's really no place in this world that's safe for it, either.

But then, sarcasm might be a gift only its author can ever receive. Whomever it's addressed to, its author seems to be the only one certain to understand its full intent. It does not come out and straightforwardly say much of anything. It relies instead upon associations to deliver the blow, but to receive that blow, the recipient has to be at least somewhat in the know. Great sarcasm is always first an inside joke, entirely understandable only to its author. Its purpose might not be to communicate anything to anybody other than its author, who easily understands any underlying intentions. The author might intend to make a fool of another, but he'll likely encounter a greater fool in the process. That greater fool might just be the otherwise innocent author who wrote the piece in his unique language, naively intending, perhaps, that another might receive the deeply encoded message.

So, this CHope series might, finally, serve as a testament to its author's deep sense of impotence in the face of idiotic governance. This is not a new or unfamiliar sensation for this author or, I suspect, for any other. We each aspire to share our sensations with others. Since there doesn't seem to be any universal sense, there's no way to tell if another ever receives the author's message as intended. Indeed, when I speak with those who read my best-selling Blind Men and the Elephant, the one question that most frequently pops into my head is, "What book did you read?" None seemed to have read the book I was certain I'd written. Each received perhaps the message they needed rather than the one I'd intended. I always feel a little guilty taking credit for having written something I was almost sure I hadn't written or, if I had written, it was largely unintentional.

Sarcasm, above all other forms, tends to be LostOn its recipient. I can't say that this doesn't come as somewhat of a Godsend because if the full intent of the writing had hit its intended mark, it could have only proved to be insulting. Anyone receiving sarcasm should feel deeply offended, because offense was most likely the author's underlying intent. He employed sarcasm in the secret hope that his arrow might somehow miss its mark so that the stinging component might be delivered without creating a gushing flesh wound. It might be that sarcasm serves as the most cowardly form of criticism, always disclosing more about the author than it ever does about its target. I imagined, through much of this series, that I might be landing genuinely stinging punches. I realize now that I might have only been punching myself.

Our incumbent appears to be securely insulated from almost every moderating outside influence. He seems to be acting as someone's puppet, and it appears likely that he has little control over himself at this point. He has deserved every criticism I've heard leveled against him, for he's truly awful on a historically unique scale. He seems to be wrong about everything, embracing opposing views on seemingly every subject. He seems so easily offended. This fuels vengeful responses. He spools himself up and down, always overreacting. He might be nothing more confusing than a drama queen, and whatever offense I might take or intend to commit, has little effect on his consequent performance. I ultimately wrote my CHope Series for myself, to keep myself company while I watched my potency and influence evaporate.

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Tags: #CHope , #PureSchmaltz