SOL … BUT NOT DOA
StrangeAppar8us back in the days of R/L facial symmetry
(Update on the condition of our blog confrere StrangeAppar8us)
StrangeAppar8us died on November 3rd. Well, actually, since he’s sitting here right now, I guess I’d have to say that either he didn’t die very much, or that he never died at all.
For a variety of reasons, Strange opted to exit this dimension of space by shooting himself in the right temple with the .32-calibre Colt 1911 pistol the US Coast Guard had issued his dad for use in World War II. The bullet made one entry hole in the right side of his face and exited from five other holes in his skulldome and opposite temple.
In the movies, anyone else who tried this would have been dead. Strange didn’t really die; neither did a failed suicide improve the conditions of his life by any metric. In fact, the only permanent aftereffect (so far) is that the bullet evaporated 50% of his active memory and the destruction of both eyeballs. The severing of the optic nerve has made him blind for the rest of his life.
The good news: while Strange was fully committed to dying on a night some eight months past, the allure of Death now escapes him, and he is fully committed to reassembling the motives and tools that once made him one of the most dedicated writers in any arena. StrangeAppar8us wants to live. He wants to live more and better than he ever lived before. And above all, he wants to spend more time with you—my fellow ‘Roasters, who expressed their sadness at my absence, and web chums like Michael Berube and Mr. Wonderful and John Cole and Roy Edroso and Tbogg and Thers and asiangrrl and meep-meep (and endless others), who praised my work and wished me luck, and, in many cases, gave generously to the welfare fund that is currently helping to rebuild my life with talking computers and recording devices that can turn a blind man back into a writer.
Thanks to all, I am currently into my 9th month as a patient at a well-known Pittsburgh rehab clinic. I’m getting better, even if I can’t see just yet. I may never see again…but I wanted you to know that by hook or crook, I’m coming back to this blog gangbusters, even dictating every new post to Mrs. Polly, precisely as I’m doing now. (StrangeAppar8us wipes a tear from his eye, gestures to Mrs. Polly, and steps behind the theatre scenery. Mrs. Polly is drowned by applause. As sure as any doctor, she saved his life.)