I thought my new emoticon ate my 92 personalities but I turned out to be wrong

Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, but by inadvertantly clicking on my own installed emoticon link above, I just negated 20 minutes spent composing a lenthy emotionally stirring piece regarding my evolving opinions on fictional vs. factual horror and abuse.

I am way too tired to recreate it now, but here were the highlights:

My mind turned to real and imagined abused after being forced this evening to watch a decade-old Oprah interview with Truddi, a woman who copes with her horrific child sexual abuse through the use of her 92 personalities (actually, in a sad addendum to the piece, we learned that two of the personalities were former navy seals turned mercenaries who died in Iraq this week, so she’s down to 90. Ted Koppel has not decided whether to read their names on the air.).

[all right, I’m tired and cranky–in the original piece, I did not make fun of the 92 personalities. But what am I gonna do, that fucking emoticon ate some of my best work!]

I revealed my ancient rules for avoiding hideous depictions:

leave during the second anal rape.

never read any of the well-written books sent to me by my well-meaning and wonderful mother-in-law.

I bare my deep and abiding contradictions by waxing semi-eloquent about the brilliant contrasts in the movies Pulp Fiction and Blue Velvet.

I confess that I had to create an entire personality just to cope with the basement scene in Pulp Fiction.

I close by dissing Kill Bill and its sequels, suggesting that if whatever we put our attention to grows and comes to fruition, we better not put our attention to Lucy (not to be confused with Carol) Liu and her severed heads. Not to mention I would rather not have started my evening hearing how a tiny girl was raped by her stepfather and covered with snakes.