We are always more afraid than we wish to be, but we can always be braver than we expect. Hold on to your heart, and the World cannot harm what is really you, your heart.
-Sorilea, Wise One of the Jarra Sept of the Chareen Aiel
I had it all planned. I was going to start with an inspirational hymn or something:
There comes a time when we heed a certain call
When the world must come together as one
There are people dying, it's time to lend a hand
To life, the greatest gift of all
We can't go on pretending day by day
That someone somewhere will soon make a change
We are all part of God's great big family
And the truth's you know love is all we need
Well, maybe not. Too Benedictory. Maybe I write a sexily mysterious letter
Dearest HyperionNation,
I must leave you. Why, I cannot say. Where I am going, you cannot know. How I will get there? I haven't decided yet. But one thing I can tell you, any time I hear the wind blow it will whisper the name... HyperionNation. And so let us part with a love that will echo through the ages.
Hyperion
Maybe not. Probably be getting marriage proposals off of that.
But I knew I wanted to make the last one special. Talk about last week (September 22, in case you have been with us a year or so), talk about what happened before September 22, and what happened after.
I had this great little message column on how 29,000 children starve to death each day, and until your day includes 29,001, you really cannot complain about anything.
I had humor, tears, hope for the least of ye, winks for the hotties.
But alas, I am out of time.
The reasons I cannot discuss right now. Maybe I never will. This only will I reveal: you know what I have said from day one is the reason I was in Canada in the first place? Well, sometimes that Pied Piper comes calling, and he aims to collect.
Actually, that analogy made no sense, but I am not being dramatic about the lack of time thing, so we move on.
I will be out of range for a while. No phone, no internet, no motorboat…not a single luxury. (Like Robinson Caruso, it’s primitive as can be.)
But that does not mean the Institute dies! Oh, no, friends. We live on, and ever on.
I will be posting from the road for a time. Not sure how often. I think it goes without saying that posting will not be as regular as I have been until lately. But you never know when, so you should still show up each day.
And if that’s not enough, it would take kryptonite to slow down the Monkey Barn, so visit there often too (assuming you have had your shots).
And—unprecedented for me—I am throwing the doors wide open. I have set up a special web address: hyperionexiled@gmail.com Kaida has agreed to monitor it and post things that people send. (Although: she has taste, so it might be a better idea to email if you have an idea first, and see what she thinks.)
I am not discriminatory: I will even let women speak on these pages. (As long as they are not from Louisiana.)
Yes, friends, I am the very model of the modern major gentleman.
It will suck not to have cable: the new shows I have already bonded with (Studio 60, Smith, Heroes), returning favorites (House, Lost), and even a flyer or two on a Friday Night Lights. But 29,000 kids and all that. (It’s sort of my mantra to keep from feeling sorry for myself, although you should see the strange looks I get when I mutter, “29,000 kids starved today...29,000 kids starved today...”)
It will suck even more not to be able to write for you regularly, and get feedback. But we will do what we can, and somehow we will triumph.
At least that’s the plan.
May you all—yes, even you, and you know who I am talking about, so don’t pretend you don’t, down there in Disney World and you damn well better have brought me back a present—may you all, friends, enjoy prosperity.
May all you teams prevail.
May your burdens be light, your joys overwhelming,
May you all get more than a little tail.
And friends, until we meet again, may you always find water and shade.
Hyperion
2:47 pm
September 28, 2006
Note: Title was the last episode of M*A*S*H
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