lou chosen's

notepad

this space may be utilized by the author periodically for expression of random thoughts, organized in no particular order without any great deliberation as to deep significance or impact, since all posts will be deleted in short order, with an equivalent insofar as the reading experience is concerned being an uninvited intruder’s impressions of a person if barging into our brains at moments of high emotion, when verbal venting and other manner of harmless release may be the best, healthiest recourse to inanities of a brand particular to the human species.

i've been trying to figure out this sean hannity personage, just as a sort of side diversion, not particularly amusing, oftentimes pure torture, and haven't solved the problem, inasmuch as i'll never know for sure his true identity and purpose because, well, i haven't a crystal ball nor access to some truth serum, which anyways would be insufficient because i don't think the guy himself knows the full story, but at any rate am willing to put this little matter to rest for lack of deeper interest.
 
here's my summary assessment based purely on a total of probably an hour's time listening to his podcast over several different days, usually lasting between thirty seconds and a few minutes of the beginning.
 
firstly he's not a bad bloke, not by a long shot. he's a fundamentally decent person and perhaps that was my first stumbling block. how could that jive with his brainless repetition of such phraseology as "the cultist alarmist leftist environmentalist extremists," by which he means anybody declaring global warming a public health crisis, drawing attention to a first-world dependency on fossil fuels as having bankrupted our resources to date, with third-world nations rapidly on the move to make up for their deficiency, like an indigent fellow who raids fast food restaurants of their straws and napkins, justifying their actions by pointing to their otherwise earth-friendly minimalist lifestyle....
 
now, obviously i have sympathy for the people who frown upon the truly bizarre antics akin to a faux-scientist, unaccomplished and unremarkable in every respect, any distinguished credentials inevitably faked, chaining himself to the doors of a corporation with a vague rallying cry that devolves to: "i feel, like, really passionately about... mama earth... i mean, nobody cares about her... nobody!... so here i am chained... to a building... and i'm burning mad... furious!... about the... planet earth... it's hot... heating up... bad... bad people...."
 
then we've got the smirking sportscasters who are obviously sanguine in their belief that they've been embraced into an exclusivity cult of great purpose, and are privy to its inner workings, and despite radiating only a highly unbecoming conceit and superiority complex, as well as a woeful lack of discretion that obviously without question has compromised them during their adolescence, thus rendering them useful only for the said occupation, sitting about and blabbering aimlessly, all while wishing to be acknowledged as, "just as good as their fathers," or at least almost, aspiring to that degree of competency, while again, having already fallen short, irreparably losing their chance at falling into even the vicinity of the vaunted inner circle, it's sheltering perimeter ring, the one just outside that layer, and on and on.....
 
as i've maintained from the start, in a way, just children, like this hannity person, yet fancying themselves grand personages of immense influence and worthiness. perhaps it would be a subject for the humor column, but for the utterly sad and decrepit nature of the whole thing.
 
like that guy from tiktok interviewing vacuities meandering about times square, asking them to attend to such head-scratchers as: do you have two arms, or three of them. what's the middle name given on your assigned identity papers, kept by the entity in charge of your activities here. out of which hole do your feces get expelled. etc.
 
for dull, dim-witted lou chosen, it's all been falling like a brick onto the empty head. well, i've finally bothered to stoop and pick it up for further examination. the affixed note reads: "welcome to the twenty-first century, butthead!"

january – february

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may – june

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april may

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september – october

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december

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december – january

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