The transition to mean bastard did not go as planned. It is the unfortunate duty of the author to inform his reading public that while he remains partly a nice guy, a good deal of his concentration has been sapped. Reading comprehension was among the first of his few abililties to depart, along with the limited social skills he still had. His intelligence, striated with the rigors of too many side projects, is for the moment dubious.
The author is now in the habit of saying stupid things and frightening people. And while this may have been an ideal mental condition for Spalding Gray on a stage, for the author, it is diminishing his credibility and his ability to work.
As a result, corners will have to be cut or considerably curbed as the author picks himself off the floor and, with an almost Randian determination, prepares early for later days this year when he will no doubt resemble Keith Richards.
The author suspects that all this might have something to do with not taking a vacation for several years. (And in fact he counts his recent sick days as a form of vacation.) But he knows that once the dirty work is done, he will feel much better and articulate with greater cogency.