I’ve talked a lot in recent posts about the revelations that
have been coming in thick and fast over the last couple of months. They haven’t
really changed me in any substantive way, but rather revealed things that were
previously hidden, or at least clarified things that were confusing. And one
outcome, as I mentioned in one post, has been to free me up to be what I am,
warts and all. No more hiding from myself on sensibilities that are inconvenient.
So, it is with dismay that I re-read some of my old posts,
as I occasionally do when Google stats tell me that somebody has accessed them.
I could take them down, of course, but it’s a matter of principle not to delete
posts that have attracted comments. And there’s no point in wishing I hadn’t
said this or that, because I did and
that’s all there is to it. The fact that I wouldn’t dream of saying it now is
immaterial.
Nevertheless, I think I can permit myself the indulgence of
wishing that people wouldn’t read the damn things!
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