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... to be compelled to read a comic strip that one hates, week after week. Surely the only thing worse is the tragic compulsion to then spend additional precious minutes of one's life writing a letter detailing exactly how one feels.
It's occurred to me that this could become a life-destroying problem. Where does it end? Once the low-hanging fruit of Kansas O'Flaherty is gone, the afflicted must seek out ever more obscure comics to read, in anguish, and then rail against. I imagine, in my own case, having to spend each day hunting down the latest Cathy, Garfield, thence perhaps Brenda Starr if I could even find her online, and so on down to the likes of Mallard Fillmore — or worse. I shudder to think.
Of course, one mustn't judge, only try to acknowledge the pain of those in the throes of this torment. I wish you strength in your struggle, Kansas O'Flaherty-haters. Remember, you can reclaim your dignity, reclaim your lives, and conquer this need. Think of your loved ones, think of a better time to come — a time when comics you loathe have no power over you.
You can do it!