October 14, 2008
Injun Summer (or Why Chicago Ain't So Bad)
As those who have followed my rough and tumble pursuit of nothingness (online and off) over the past year know all too well, I have had a tendency to shit on Chicago with more frequency than newborn babies soil their diapers.1 Indubitably, some of my criticisms are valid (insofar as they are decipherable from the incomprehensible jumble of impenetrable words incompetently composed) and especially so when it comes to loathsome Hyde Park, a place that only induces more irrational and amorphous rage with each passing day. Yet, I would be remiss to suggest that I have only hate for Chicago. Driving home last night from said loathsome venue (Hyde Park), I could not help but be impressed by the serene nighttime views of the formidable skyline and Lake Michigan as I jetted up Lake Shore Drive. Perhaps I had been to quick to judge, I thought to myself begrudgingly. Has my time in Chicago actually been that odious?