Ignorance Really Is Bliss

Oh, B&E readers, I love you. But alas, for the time being, I've got limited access to the World Wide Web of information superhighways. This means fewer regular updates, I'm afraid.

There's a byproduct of limiting one's online access (as well as one's access to television, radio, and other media), and it is this: happiness.

I haven't heard reports of wacko extremists fantasizing about violently overthrowing our current president's administration; I haven't read about how our health care reform is bought and paid for by the very corporations causing the problems; I haven't heard or read the names Michelle Bachman, Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, or the other Dickheads of the Right.

Indeed, I wake up when the sun pours into my cabin; I stoke a wood fire if it's cold; I make myself eggs laid by the chickens right over there; I write whatever I feel like writing (script, letters, journal); I read whatever I feel like reading; I eat when I feel like eating; I sleep when I feel like sleeping. This is what we call a retreat, B&E readers.

So maybe it's not just the lack of media that's bringing some serious happy. But as I realized I hadn't looked at any of my lefty propaganda sites recently, it also occurred to me that I had no desire to. The world can go right to hell in a hand basket, and I would have absolutely no idea. And something about that feels awfully good.

The only thing lacking is my regular dose of the missus. If we could somehow figure out a way to add her to this equation, it really would be an ideal life.

A life of denial, perhaps, but denial can be powerfully seductive.