Michael Malone - Weebly

public court record. Particularly when the analysis is so
compellingly negative, and at least possibly true. A.A.
Hayes, for example, could easily have written his to
himself: "You chicken-snot snob. You loser.
Why don't you kill your wife? She's killing you. You
like that? Hard to kill a dead man, right, pal? No-ball
liberal." Hayes could go even further: "As Lime says
(nobody's all bad), someone ought to get on the stick.
Am I so morally lackadaisical, so stripped of ambition,
that a scoop can be flung in my face like a chocolate pie
and not arouse in me even the curiosity to comment,
'Ah, chocolate'? Apparently so. Some paranoid! I have
let drop the dropping of the highway, the breaking of
my window, the smashup of my life, without so much as
a who, what, when, where, or how. Not to mention
why. Some journalist! Some spy! Don't I care?
Apparently not. My whole life could go by while I sat
on the pot reading Journal of the Plague Year with the
door locked to keep the world away."
The editor knew of a half-dozen other Dingleyans
who had received the letters. But there were still others
he had not heard of: