So here's the post from a blog I started years ago, and then let rot on the internet. I wasn't actually much of a blog reader at that point, and didn't really have much to say. Now I' ve turned into one of those net addicts you ready about in those moldy magazines you find in your doctor's office, so I have a better idea of what to contribute. Let's see how it goes the second time around.
OK, so it's 2005 and everyone has a blog. We can learn deep and meaningful things, expose political misdoings, share great art, and generally do a bunch of other really important stuff, right? Well shucks, I probably don't have much to say about any of that. About all I've got is eclectic tastes, a weird sense of humor, and a couple of little monkeys.
Does that qualify me to comment on the state of American culture (or lack thereof, depending on your ideology)? No. Political animals and their husbandry? No. Postminimalism into Maximalism: American Art 1966-1989 (you can find everything at Amazon). No.
So what am I doing here? I don't know. I never got into keeping a diary back in school either (you remember those really stupid English assignments, don't you?) and isn't that what blogging is all about? As the infamous author of many overly lengthy emails, memos, and other esoteric workplace writings, my co-workers would greatly appreciate anything that might reduce my word count. So why not bleed ink in a blog instead? If I put all of my meaningless ramblings on the internet, the only people to suffer will be the masochists who voluntarily show up. So welcome to my blog and enjoy the pain.
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