Vacation Wisdom

Vacating under circumstances, which, under the idiotic rules I've set up, I cannot really tell you about. I can tell you, however, that while the rule about only blogging about blogging seems ever more constricting and limiting, the alternative would seem to be generating into some sort of memoir or literary thing. Somthing significant has happened which I would like to share, but can't. I can only hope that it gets absorbed into my protoplasm in such a way that it comes out deciperhable when I go back to the usual shit when I get home and when I've forgotten about or are less stunned by the thing that happened. Alas, I guess that's all for now (vacation time). I am not editing while I am on vacation. The editing might quite possibly be even stupider than the material it is allegedly improving but it shows you that I recognize bad writing even when there's not much I can do except insult it. Lord, what kind of corner have I painted myself into and, most importantly why, This is not the Lord responding, but I think I do have an idea of why I am doing what I am doing though I am not certain I will ever be able to articulate it, which means it will fit right in here. Don't worry about me, fab 5, everything is really ok. Life issues have a way of worming their way even into idiotic pieces of prose which may or may not be blogs.

Pass the Suntan Lotion

The blogger is on vacation and while he should be emptying his brain of whatever sawdust remains in it, instead he is using these precious hours thinking of the special treats we have when he returns. I have to figure out how to work in a car being blown out of a skyscraper window.

New Post

The keeper of Blogg is leaving for a vacation today. If the wi-fi works he will fill you in on every boring detail of how it does not effect anything. If the wi-fi does not work you will probably not notice the difference since all this stuff is pretty much the same anyway whether there is a tree in the area or not. I am feeling more and more like this blog is heading somewhere but relative toward where it was going that could be a ditch and it would be progress. Am I social networking (with 5 people). I do not want to be social networking. It sounds like the old erector sets but with people instead of metal bars as the parts. I have nothing to say. This is not my normal "I have nothing to say." I mean I just hit a wall and can't think of a fucking thing to put in here. I have to prepare for my trip which is in real life and I have so little of it and am so excited at the prospect of having some that this thing just feels like the nothing it is. I have had many years of therapy and I am trying not to get angry at myself for the fact that at this point after wasting all this time (mine and yours) I can think of nothing to say. So I will take it a step further before I sign off. The fact that I have nothing to say does not mean that I am not thinking about things. But they have not yet passed through the espophagus where thinking turns to saying. You probably have more than enough to read anyway, especially if you are social networking and I have to pack. Adios.

The Death of Blogg

I just read in a highly respected serious magazine that the growth rate of blogs has slowed, died in some cases, while that of social networks like Facebook, has skyrocketed. I had previously threatened to look up "blog" on Wikopedia to find out if I was indeed blogging or doing something else like writing the history of 16th century Germany. It says (ok, it's The Economist) that blogs are "a confection of several things that do not necessarily have to go together, reverse cbronological ordering, a breezy writing style and the ability to comment. But for maintaining an online journal or sharing links and photos with friends, services such as Facebook and Twitter (which broadcasts short messages) are quicker and simpler."
Well. I could have a lot to say about this, starting with the fact that it probably represents the most blatant intrusion of "reality" into Blogg since it began and it may have killed the whole fucking thing. But it rings true on some things. My chronological order is indeed reversed, but the editing attempts to unreverse it. I leave the "breeziness" of my writing style to the reader's opinion. As for "the ability to comment," I don't know what the fuck they are talking about. S for sharing links and photos with friends, I don't have any friends. For that matter I don't think I have any photos beyond babyshots of my kids and the only links I have ever experienced have been composed of sausages.

You can always count on real life commentary to confuse things. I still don't really know what a blog is or if I am writing one and I am now much too pissed off to wander into the bogs of Wikopedia which probably is to reference books as Blogg is to blogs. Besides, does any of this shit matter? It's just definitions. Is everyone having a good time? That's what really matters. I am having an interesting time because I have no idea where this fucking thing is going, though my instincts, always a reliable indication of reality,tell me it is going somewhere and probably not where either of us think it is. Is five people a social network. Is "social network" the dumbest combination of two words in the English language. How about "purple incapacitation?" Toss-up.

So I have wasted an entire post in which I could have been repeating myself with a rational attempt to define things. It is no fun. I will not do it again. I do not care if BLOGG is a blog. It is more interesting than a blog. It is a schlogg- but to where, at this point, no one knows.

New Postette

Not that you would ever expect more, but expect less than usual today. Though I usually keep these security sensitive details to myself, I woke up at 5, there is no room left in my stomach for any more caffeine and i am still a wreck. I was so fucked up I cleaned my bathroom at 6 a.m. Enough. If Blogg security ever discovered I was telling you this, I could be castigated or even something worse as long as it has "ated" at the end.

The tiredness cuts both ways. The obvious one: why the fuck bother? and the one that only a true neurotic could even approach, "there is a message in this tiredess that ties in with the theme of the blog." With all due respect, I think the message is "take a nap," whihc now that it is almost 10 a.m. and I have been up for 5 hours and eaten two breakfasts, I feel permitted to do before I start the day if I ever get enough energy to start it. I apologize to my faithful following for not providing them with any new red herrings to filet but the body has its own demands regardless of the condition of the brain. Perhaps I shall nap and later come back at you with something indescribably brilliant. Perhaps my hard boiled eggs are ready. There is nothing worse than a runny hard boiled egg, except, perhaps, a blog with a purpose.

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The hardest thing about trying to revivify this thing is that once you get into Part 2 it begs the question of whether there will be a part 3 to summarize it all for slow readers and also whether to really carry the thing out the window and have notes and maybe even an index. "Meaningless" would have thousands of entries. But we are nowhere near there and I sense, although it could be horse sense, a bend in the road, in fact a number of bends in the road, in fact, there may be just bends and no roads but that blogg is headed somewhere other than the electronic trash heap. In case you haven't noticed, I am walking a very fine line. The line is so fine that I can bearly make it out but it has something to do with doing something and not doing something at the same time. I know what I want to do and I will keep it secret because it suits me and its good for a dramatic narrative to have secrets. But as to whether I can do it, whether it can be done or whether it even exists-- these are questions that even a mind like mine can't answer. It has an interim answer. The interim answer is to keep writing and gradually the thing will reveal or not reveal itself. If it finally does reveal itself it will probably not surprise you and just be a variation on the same old shit. Or it may be a revelation. If it does not reveal itself, well, when you've set up the card table the way I have everybody loses anyway. The remarkable thing would be if anybody read enough of the thing to tell one way or the other.I have just noted that I am writing with the same style I would use if I had a purpose, if I had something to say or some information to convey. On a secular level, of course, I don't. This entire thing is bullshit. But I know my clackety clak index and the fact that the clacks are coming more rapidly tells me that something is happening. Perhaps I need to trim my nails. I leave with this message: if there is anyone who has been faithful and stupid enough to follow to this point, don't leave now. If the narrative rubber boat has carried you this far you might be about to enter a canoe. Or sink.

REVELATION

It's not a blog at all. It's just stuff. It's just stuff that I'm thinking that pops out like a bm. But electronica will not allow random thought. So it's a blog. It's really easy to blog. You don't even need training wheels. All you need is the alphabet. Sometimes a subject helps so I have one-- what is a blog. No one will ever know if I am right or wrong in my definition since no one knows exactly what it is. What a relief. Now on to the serious stuff.