No, honestly. It's not that I've forgotten to post anything here since my kind admission to Blogcritics and all the non-posters were going to get the axe in the move. Honestly. In reality, I was just being a rebel. A rebel like... um... Ignatius Reilly.

For those of you unfamiliar with one of this century's truly original protagonists, scroll on down and purchase yourself a copy of A Confederacy of Dunces. Splurge. Get the hardcopy. In return, you will discover a truly rebellious soul (if not body). Ignatius J. Reilly, M.A. A Medievalist trapped in modern New Orleans.

Ignatius is astoundingly large in both height and width. He lives with his mother. He has thick black hair and a thick black moustache. He masturbates frequently. He has...er...digestive problems. He has a master's degree in medieval studies. He has no job. You get the idea. Think "Trekkie before Roddenberry lived."

He is also a rebel of the first order.

He maintains his virginity in the face of the rampant sexuality of modern New Orleans. He detests both the communists and the capitalists in favor of medieval structures. He claims Catholicism but prefers to address his prayers to Fortuna, the medieval goddess of fate. When forced by circumstance into the working world, he uses every opportunity to crusade against modern society — organizing the well-treated workers at Levy Pants into a "Campaign for Moorish Dignity," consuming most of his own product and blaming thieves while working for Paradise Vendors, attempting to organize a political party of homosexuals in the hopes that with homosexuals in power attempted war will turn into one large orgy instead of violence.

He is as pitiful for his sloth and gluttony as he is admirable for his independence. Insert lots of platitudes about the dual nature of man here.

What is most sad about the story of Ignatius J. Reilly is that the book is clearly incomplete. Oh, it has an end, but it is clear that the author never worked with an editor. Although A Confederacy of Dunces won a Pulitzer prize, it was long after its author's death. John Kennedy Toole committed suicide while in his thirties, and the book saw publication only after his mother nagged Walker Percy into reading it. As a result, the ending is rushed and produces some rather non-Ignatian moments.

With Toole's suicide, we are robbed of a sequel, but Ignatius J. Reilly remains one of the most original main characters since Milton's Satan stole the show from God.

More on ACOD here.