So I was so excited today about starting a blog (I believe the first (and last) one I had disappeared around December of 2002) that I was basically contemplating things I could say that would actually sound intelligent and meaningful that I could post about. As soon as I realized what I was doing, I felt like I was back in kindergarten looking for something impressive to reveal to my classmates the next morning in show-and-tell. I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now.
What is it about our mentality that makes us want to post only "meaningful" tripe that we couldn't care less about? Like wanting to sound all deep and meaningful when all we really want to do is talk about what happened during the day. We love talking about stuff like that, but we don't, because no one else cares. At least, that's what we're told.
Forget that. I'm as guilty of this as anyone else, so I know how irritated it makes me feel. I'mma just do what I did in kindergarten and bring in stuff that may not get people interested, but won't make me feel like a glory hound.
So if I wanna say "Today, Cole sat in on my Linguistics class and drew me X-rated pictures, and then later Ben panda-body-slammed me so hard I can't feel my left arm, even four hours later", I don't think that the desire to say meaningful things should stop me. Today was a good day, and I don't want to ruin it by hurting my brain.
I also realize the irony in that this is a post with a meaning, but I'll try to defuse the impact with this.
Gaff Topsails is the most ridiculously boring book ever conceived by the mind of man. EVER. Picture a rousing game of Bridge while watching political campaigns on TV while listening to your government whine over the radio about how they don't have enough of your money to pay their salary, and you wouldn't even come close to how mind-numbing this book is. If ever I wanted to take a nail gun to the temple (yes, I know I have a fixation on nail guns), it is every time I open this book. I would probably have done it by now, had my brain not dissolved into a puddle of liquid idiocy. Sweet God and all that is holy there is more to writing than putting so much description into a book it could choke a goat. And if I have to read another euphamism like that one where the kid mistakes the scent of the sea for the smell of his semen, I'm just going to...
...I don't know. But it won't be pretty.
Icarus
What is it about our mentality that makes us want to post only "meaningful" tripe that we couldn't care less about? Like wanting to sound all deep and meaningful when all we really want to do is talk about what happened during the day. We love talking about stuff like that, but we don't, because no one else cares. At least, that's what we're told.
Forget that. I'm as guilty of this as anyone else, so I know how irritated it makes me feel. I'mma just do what I did in kindergarten and bring in stuff that may not get people interested, but won't make me feel like a glory hound.
So if I wanna say "Today, Cole sat in on my Linguistics class and drew me X-rated pictures, and then later Ben panda-body-slammed me so hard I can't feel my left arm, even four hours later", I don't think that the desire to say meaningful things should stop me. Today was a good day, and I don't want to ruin it by hurting my brain.
I also realize the irony in that this is a post with a meaning, but I'll try to defuse the impact with this.
Gaff Topsails is the most ridiculously boring book ever conceived by the mind of man. EVER. Picture a rousing game of Bridge while watching political campaigns on TV while listening to your government whine over the radio about how they don't have enough of your money to pay their salary, and you wouldn't even come close to how mind-numbing this book is. If ever I wanted to take a nail gun to the temple (yes, I know I have a fixation on nail guns), it is every time I open this book. I would probably have done it by now, had my brain not dissolved into a puddle of liquid idiocy. Sweet God and all that is holy there is more to writing than putting so much description into a book it could choke a goat. And if I have to read another euphamism like that one where the kid mistakes the scent of the sea for the smell of his semen, I'm just going to...
...I don't know. But it won't be pretty.
Icarus
posted by Icarus at 3:57 PM
1 Comments:
Don't do it!
--Jam
PS: Jebus, help me. This book is killing valuable brain cells.
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