Again last night I wrote a post here and most of it was consumed by this same platform. Eaten, gone forever - Google had a job, to preserve what is written here. The post makes no sense without it, and the refrain is destroyed by the loss.
Google, always Google.
I suppose it was my fault. I should have known or at least predicted that this might happen. Perhaps something has failed with the browser cache on my work computer. An invisible fault has become my undoing, my erasure. I forgot to copy the post before publishing. Everything except the final sentence was lost to the bytes. I was pleased with what I had written, and now this - yesterday's whine.
Moving onwards. There is this post documenting that something better once happened. As if proof is required. It was a passage attempting to imitate Fitzgerald's writing from The Crack Up. On that I suppose it is perhaps best to have ambivalent feelings. Though, I liked the passage and nobody had to know, though it was hinted at in the title.
Zelda died in a fire in Asheville, suffering from schizophrenia and the treatments they had for it at that time. The hospital is still there. Scott had died almost a decade before, believing himself to be a failed writer, which at the time I suppose he was. He was one of the very few things that WW II helped restore.
"The fruits of victory are tumbling into our mouths too quickly." - Emperor Hirohito
Then wear the gold hat, if that will move her; If you can bounce high, bounce for her too, Till she cry 'Lover, gold-hatted, high-bouncing lover, I must have you!' - Thomas Parke D'Invilliers
.
