e FLOGGING THE BLOGGER

The blogger does not go unpunished. He knows he should know better. He knows he is wasting his precious bodily fluids doing a maypole dance alone in his bedroom, hoping someone will walk by and admire it. The blogger has aspired to write great novels and the blogger knows he has not a whit of the talent necessary to create worlds and characters. So he recreates the one world and the one character he knows and puts him out on display. Look on my works ye mighty and despair. To those who actually know the blogger this display may make a bit of pathetic sense. But for those who do not, what joy can they find in the anti-characterological machinations of a person they do not know and are likely to never know. Do they try to create a character by gathering little personal dribs of this and that that the blogger has dropped vertently and inadvertently along the way. How mant blog readers does it take to create an elephant and how many trunks would it have? The blogger himself, having no idea what he is going to blog about until he does it is not in a much better position since the words that emanate from him emanate from the same place that said goo goo and gaa gaa when he was an infant. But infants are cute and cuddly, which is why so few people throw them at spiked fences. Is LA cute and cuddly. Probably not but few people also throw computers at spiked fences. As a matter of fact,I cannot even remember the last time I saw a spiked fence. What has happened to them? Who will protect us now? There was a point trying to be made somewhere and LA is frantically searching for it. Ah yes, the experience of reading LA and writing LA are curiously similar, like some quantum process in physics. The writer is the observer, which fucks up all the results but makes for some interesting displays for the onlooker. But the reader is a different kind of observer so his results are fucked up but in a completely different way. The formula for this is 6pi.003/uk./852. When applied to any entry it clarifies it (LIKE CLARIFIED BUTTER) to the point where it shines like a newly waxed Mercedes which the reader then gets to drive away while the writer starts building another one. But don't feel bad for the writer. He doesn't like to drive that much, especially German cars. He also builds tin soldiers, cuflinks and can whip up a mean waldorf salad. So while he is involved in a lonely business it is his businesss and his loneliness. LA is a happy dude. And God bless Tiny Tim.IS THERE SUCH A THING AS ABSOLUTE INCOHERENCE OR IS IT DOOMED TO BE A RELATIVE TERM, LIKE BLIZZARD. THE PERSON WHO WROTE THE PRECEDING WORDS A MONTH OR TWO AGO CAN MAKE NO SENSE WHATSOEVER OUT OF THEM. THEY ARE A STRING OF RANDOM THOUGHTLETS STRUNG TOGETHER FOR REASONS WE WILL HAVE TO LEAVE TO NEUROSCIENTISTS TO DISCOVER.