@Frank Apisa,
Quote:And having some fun toying with you.
In what sense, it might be asked, is Apisa having fun toying with another poster anymore than anyone else is sufficiently for him to be continually reminding us all of this asserted condition of his which we are presumably meant to admire. It is only another version of "that's laughable".
I lost count of the number of times Apisa has asserted the same thing about my posts. But I asked an amateur psychologist about such states of mind seeing as how it has become a repetitive mantra in many of Apisa's non-responses. It's like declaring Thomas "cranky". Or somebody being obsessed with his horrible self.
"He's probably under the cosh", I was first told. But I pressed him a little further as it was a quiet night in the pub as usual on Thursdays.
"It's quite common" he said, " we see it a lot. It is a sort of defensive obsession which is readily fueled and exercised by looking for confrontations. It derives, we think", he continued, after a blatant study of the barmaid's frontage as she bent to get a glass off the bottom shelf, " from the need at assuage, appease one might say, a pent-up and frustratingly rankling sense of the humilities often experienced by people living genteel, retiring lives in some non-descript backwater where the endless series of inevitable and ineluctable trivialities, a 3 foot putt to save a treble bogey say,
create a dreadful sense of failure considering the wide open and welcoming arms which our world offered to men of spirit and fortitude in the early sixties. This often causes", he went on, after I had bid him cease for a moment to find a pen on which to jot his thoughts on a beer mat, " a certain appetite for forced and vigorous drama, as in Knight and Day, on which a fat arsed, rabbit "golfer" might cast himself in victorious mode."
"A form of catharsis you mean?" I replied. "Yes", he said.
So those of us who Apisa treats in this unethical manner should see ourselves as performing a public service in providing him with a modicum of relief from the torture of enduring a life of little nothings and bound to the wheel of pointless and ridiculous activity with no end in sight and which might seek outlets in less harmless surroundings than we have here.
Having had a "great beer" was considered such an important event that it was thought fit to bring it to our notice. Perhaps it was the highlight of the day. Or the week. A blip on a flat-line a boozer would call that.
My pal told me to go easy on him though. He said they can explode when their bluff is called. Hence my temperate language.
