Giving up on Maximin

I remember when I first gave up on Maximin. It was September of 2011. He had learned nothing from Colombia. He clung to his desk job. He either let women lead him around, or he prided himself on leading around skanks. His writing was terrible. He operated in a sport run by women, most of them soccer moms. He began to get drunk alone--this was perhaps his greatest achievement in years. I kept trying to tell him he should kill himself, but he ignored my advice and ate cliff bars at night. He tried to connect with 20-something American women, but as anyone could have told him, they left him empty. Man, his last years were sad, there was a myth of a myth of a myth that a man gets what he wants, that a man creates a myth that he gets what he wants but only when there is a myth. Make the myth and dance in between the pillars of its foundation. Yeah, man, make that fuckin myth work for you.