The One That Got Away

Well, here I sit, disappointed by Stanley Fish again.

After three weeks of essays about atheism, none of which was convincing on its own, and the sum total of which amounted to very little, he has, today, posted an essay about country music. Now, since I had predicted in a couple of places, including in a comment on Professor Fish's blog, that he would follow up on the three atheism posts with one that would have allowed them to--I don't know--make sense, I'm stuck here with egg on my face.

This is the final proof to me that this man is not a thinker, but is rather an old sophist who tries to make himself feel smarter than everybody else by piling up mounds of words, great mudpiles of sentences that exist only to bury, not enlighten. That is not, in my opinion, a fit occupation for a man.

The path through this life is difficult enough to negotiate without overage adolescents screwing with the street signs just so that they can build their fragile egos.

Adieu, Fish! My disappointment is almost as high as your mudpiles.