Frank, I'm not going to shoot you.
It has become apparent that our hero has lost the ability to speak
frankly. He never was one of those fellows who would say things
like, "I really think this shirt you got me for my birthday is hideous
and I'd much rather use it to catch sperm than wear about town."
or "my life as I know it has been a certain brand of cruel that they
typically reserve for child killers and ex-Ottawa Senator goalies and,
as such, I really feel like sliding a sharp blade across my wrists,
but won't because I'm a pussy and because the people that love me
don't deserve the uncomfort that would result." however, despite never
being as forthright as those examples of forthrightness, he was never
as benign and uncontroversial as he has noticably become.
I've been told that our hero often debated the merits of giving
completely straight, frank, and fleshed-out responses to even the most
emotionally difficult of subjects versus keeping situations light by
politely avoiding heavy words and critcal advances towards individuals
deserving of critiquing or not. One report suggests that various
events and other factors coaxed him into predominantly maintaining the
polite and fluffy approach.
Realizing that the disposition of always giving the safe answer
carries with it a host of dangerous repercussions that can be more
depricating than the often short-term discomfort that accompanies the
more direct approach, our hero has decided to take semi-conscious
steps in the direction of more frank communication. He knows it will
be a struggle at times, tears may be shed and tempers may elevate, but
the reward of taking a stand and flaunting some fortitude should
placate the risk and maybe even bring some colour back into his eyes.