Cranky Large Medium reading, 3 January

Go away.

Will you please begone? Have I not enough to endure, this day? O, my soul! And yet you stay! How is it you must break this poet's heart? But of course, you seek the wisdom of the ages, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. Here is your reading:

You should have married before you or your potential mate reached an age where you, personally, had a clue. Fortunately, there is still time. You are still gullible enough to give away things when people ask for them, not yet soured by your own actions, and, so far, can ride a bicycle without falling off (unless it's a weekend morning and you're not yet sober). You don't know when to come in out of the rain, and the company best suited for your conversation is quadrupedal.

Are you happy, now? Of course not. But at least you're still sucking air, unlike these people, all of whom, on this date in history, went -- gentle or no -- into that good night: Grenville M. Dodge, Joseph Wirth, Jeremiah Horrocks, Carle David Tolmé Runge, Jean Focas, Sergei Lvovich Sobolev, Hillel ben Naphtali Zevi, Kuriakose Elias Chavara, Gladys Aylward, Pierre Larousse, William Harrison Ainsworth, Jaroslav Hasek, Ferdinando Galli-Bibiena, Josiah Wedgwood, James Merritt Ives, Will Eisner, Baldassare Galuppi, Jack Pickford, Dame Judith Anderson, Heather Sears, Joie Chitwood, Johnny Most, Sid Gillman, Leon Wagner, Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, Bennelong, Alois Hitler, Edgar Cayce, William Joyce, Jack Ruby, Conrad Hilton, Freddy Heineken,

and Mary Garden.

But no resurrection today.
Happy birthday, anyway.