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Desert Area Man is a character complex, of uncharacteristically characteristic character, which is his most characteristically complex characteristic, complexly.
Desert Area Man runs towards everything now, because in retrospect, riding a horse with no name that was impossible to call for when it inevitably went maverick was maybe not the best idea to ever shake out of someone's bootcut 501s.
It felt like the very first time.
I still find it hard to reconcile Ken's speaking voice and amiable one-on-one demeanor with his saguaro-like behind-the-mic persona, which I guess is actually closer to how one might expect him to sound based upon much of his pre-Desert Oracle writings.
What makes it even weirder is that when he goes out for drinks, he wears a suit and tie, but when he goes out on stage, he wears a black ten-gallon hat and old timey train engineer overalls.
I was — I am — one of the good guys, you guys.
And yet...I've been lied about, silenced, and vilified by fools; worse, you've been lied to, duped, and played for fools. I have zero fucking tolerance for such bullshit, especially when it concerns me and my friends. The unprecedented nature of my unjust banning should serve as a chilling and worrisome warning to every Wonkette commenter that criticism and dissent —no matter how well-intentioned, reasoned, and respectful — will not be tolerated, especially if it makes Rebecca or her bullying benefactor look bad.
SHAME ON HER.