“Come join the murder,” the black ravens of his heart cried. “Come join it again, old friend.” And so he did. The prodigal relapsed. Re-sinned. Re-destroyed his life. Would his father welcome him home this time?
Fourteen years ago, drowning in the muck of dark despair, in the middle of a life gone terribly wrong, I wrote in my journal, "I wonder how, once this is all over, how I’ll be, how I’ll turn out…” Now I know.
Infamy allows us the opportunity to hone one of our favorite skills: to shrink a 343-page life story down to a single paragraph that narrates what happened on one day, at a certain hour, and in a certain location. We can whittle an entire biography down to a single Tweet.