Dear Journal

Day Four. Has it already been four days out here in the fever swamps? The howling of the moonbats are becoming unbearable. "Screech", "Screech", "Rove", "Screech". It's becoming almost too much for one man to bear.

Will it ever stop! Will it ever stop!

Occasionally I hear a friendly voice in the distance but the incessant rants of one bat in particular, I call him "Jay", make it a fleeting comfort. Some of the smaller bats, one I named 'Justin' in particular, have seemed to disappear but there are still times when I can see a swarm arrive to deposit gifts to Jay. He must be their leader.

I have tried to injure him or drive him off with my arsenal of facts and links but to no avail. He seems impervious to logic. It's a world where opinion and feeling appear to have more stength than fact. I should continue on to more civilized territories but I feel an obligation to try and bring light to this darkness.

My journey continues.