Well, I’ve only gone and done it, haven’t I?
I’ve been telling myself for too long that I’m going to start up one of these ‘blog’ thingies, about a century and a half after every other bugger on the planet (along with his/her pets and most of the household appliances) has got one. Once again, the race is run and done while I’m still trying to figure out how you use the starting blocks. Just call me ‘Cutting-Edge’ Willis.
And yet, to put a positive spin on my tardiness (and anyone who knows me knows that I’m the King of the Glass-Half-Full People, oh yeah), there are certain advantages to be had by coming so late to the game. For one thing, I’ve read a substantial amount of bloggage, of various kinds (some of which seemed to be written in a language almost like English) by now; enough to know that Sturgeon’s Law (“Ninety percent of everything is crap”) holds as true for the ‘blogosphere’ as it does for everything else.
And for another, there’s the matter of my age. By the time that the vast majority of human beings who have ever walked upon the Earth got to my age, they’d been dead for about thirty years, which, if the museum reconstructions of our ancestors is anything to go by, is a blessing because even at twenty-something they had faces that only a coroner or a rugby coach could love. Many were in their graves before they were out of their teens (a piece of information that gives hope to those of us familiar with the life and works of Justin Bieber).
I have accumulated wisdom, is my point. Experience. A certain world-weary resignation in the face of the vagaries of modern existence, and the disappointment many of us feel when we realise we’re in the second decade of the 21st century and we’re still not living in domes on the moon and wearing one-piece Spandex jump-suits. It is a wisdom that I happily, yet humbly, lay at the feet of my fellow creatures, to take what sustenance and succour they will from its store of elegant truths, pithy epithets and knob gags.
So it is that, fully cognisant of the fact that the foregoing has much the same information-to-noise ratio as a moose’s fart, I stand with you, breathless in anticipation at the very brink, nay the cusp, of this new era of electronickal irrelevance and drive-by whimsy. I hope you find the journey diverting, and no more than slightly uncomfortable (sorry about the smell).
Now go away. Your teeth are far too close together, and that cardigan does my cowing head in.