10 September 1952 / Wisconsin

Because of what I did to their church, the Unitarians are still very angry at me. I find their swift and violent reaction to the "attack" on their "meeting house" to be completely at odds with their reputation as wishy-washy peace lovers whose ire never exceeds the piquancy of their omnipresent casseroles. Their anger is particularly upsetting to me because I bear them no ill will.

In retrospect, I can see how they could mistake the slurs I painted to describe the building's architect, Frank Lloyd Wright, as an affront to the Unitarian Church's ideology. I regret that.

And I regret that the longstanding feud between Wright and I is now causing collateral damage. But that does not change the fact that I hate him and always will. Yes, I was always big for my age, and I was often "sassy," but there is no justification for a grown man punching a seven-year-old in the face, especially at his own birthday party. He is, and always will be, a bad man. I need only look out on the southeast corner of the Magnus estate, at the half-finished "Prairie School" dog house that remains unfinished to remind me of that fact.

Wright aside, the Unitarians are quite upset. Enough so that several people close to me have suggested that I carry a gun.

While I'm confident I can handle any danger using my fists and forehead, the thought of walking around armed appealed to me in as a social experiment. I've heard that carrying a weapon causes one to feel an inflation of one's self worth. I am curious to see if this is the case. I also wonder how others will react towards me if it is obvious that I am armed. I do think that the visibility of the weapon is an important aspect of this experiment, a "concealed" weapon is boring. I haven't yet decided on what to carry. I am leaning towards a crossbow.