It has been strangely touching and removed to read Garrison Keillor’s Facebook postings. He was, without verification or authority, implicated in the #MeToo movement, and without so much as the blink of a National Public Eye his life’s work was summarily erased. That is McCarthyism. I recognize that details of the encounter in question have been rebuffed solely by GK and not detailed by the accuser, so this could go under the rug when GK is revealed to be a sociopathic predator. At which time I will retract my sympathies. But for now I stand with GK.
Happy Man
I drunkenly friend requested him last night. He (weirdly) accepted, I guess on account of our 139 mutual friends. He was an influential character to me in high school and for a little bit beyond. I think often of his story about a high school literary magazine called Cumulus and its nominal æsthetic connection to my Digital Hoarding.
But I came to find Keillor a bitter, biting, angry fuck who loathed the characters he scrapped together from his experiences or just flat out concocted. I considered him the Edward Hopper of American storytelling, one with no sympathy and even disdain for his subjects. I cannot stand his work from the 1980s on but I respect its status and vouch for its existence among future scribes.
