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Issues Index | Next => It has long been held that Ambrose Gwinnett Bierce was born at Horse Cave Creek, Ohio on this day in 1842, although the exact location now seems to be in doubt. He joined the Union army in 1862, rising from first lieutenant to brevet major by the time he left the army in San Francisco in 1867 at which point he took up journalism. He was a deft satirist, which earned him the name Bitter Bierce, his precise spare use of the language is a model that I should probably emulate. One part of the Bierce corpus that I won't dip into this time was the Devil's Dictionary, a feature of his newspaper column between 1881 and 1906 and then published in book form. He disappeared into Mexico in 1913 with the intention of joining Pancho Villa's revolutionaries.
All are lunatics, but he who can analyze his delusions is called a philosopher. Speak when you are angry, and you will make the best speech you will ever regret. Calamities are of two kinds: misfortunes to ourselves, and good fortune to others. Cogito cogito ergo cogito sum. (I think I think, therefore, I think I am.) I keep a conscience uncorrupted by religion, a judgment undimmed by politics and patriotism, a heart untainted by friendships, and sentiments unsoured by animosities. In our civilization, and under our republican form of government, intelligence is so highly honored that it is rewarded by exemption from the cares of office.
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