Until recently I had always only used the internet for useful things: airline tickets, hotel reservations, information retrieval and news gathering. AND THEN IT OCCURRED TO ME! In true S(P)aul on the road to Damascus fashion, the scales fell away from my eyes and I beheld the myriad beautiful USELESS opportunities the web affords! I weep as I type this in remembrance of the power of that life-altering moment.
Being from a small, Puritan and windy (although that is immaterial) isle off Scotland’s west coast, genetics and social mores have always told my higher brain to seek the utilitarian in all I did and not waste my time. “Was there a point to any given activity?” I would ask myself. I tried to figure out the most useful use of my time, and even managed to do whatever that was about half the time. But, hidden and lurking, was My True Nature which is a wee nature, surplus to the requirements of big Mamma Nature. It is of a useless quality. Redundant. Seriously, I don’t know how evolution ever coughed a nature like mine up. A nature like my True one serves no useful purpose, other than to breed and nurture a bit, which I’ve already done, so what now, huh? HUH? If I didn’t think Intelligent Design was the many colorful expletives I think it is, I would question why Evolution could have thought it was a good idea to let me roam around breeding.
I (and therefore you) have also to blame the UK social framework which allowed a child with such an etiolated True Nature as mine to live past the age of 5. (Maybe this civilization thing is counter-productive.) The government gave me milk from tiny milk-bottles at school play-times until Margaret Thatcher put a stop to it (a lady who clearly foresaw the rise of the Useless Type and wanted to nip us in the bud), I got regular, government-mandated immunizations and every attempt was made to prevent Mamma Nature from recognising my wee True Nature and weeding me out before I could grow up and propagate myself.
So, here I idle on the sofa that time forgot (and now I look at it, taste forgot this sorry sofa too) and now … here I go … I’m going to cast off the shackles of the useful, productive me (tinkle) and roll around naked and ecstatic in the new found complete uselessness of blogging. Behold! A new blogger is born and somewhere an angel has flown into some powerlines. Singed feathers everywhere.
By the way, I’m parenthetically dysenteric (which is a PC way to say i will be writing in such a way as to wholly irritate anyone who stumbles across this wee blog with rambling digressions like this one) because (handkerchief to brow!) I live my life in parentheses (gentle mopping) and so constantly lose the point of what it was i just started doing yesterday when i was looking for the scissors and then stubbed my toe and scared the children with my LOUD ejaculation (first rude-ish word of my blog! Proud beam!) and forgot what it was I was wanting to cut with the scissors……where was I?…
Blogging! Scary, scary blogging. Christ! (first BOTH rude AND holy word of my blog! Look mum! No hands!) It’s kind of scary to think that this frail wee wotzit’ll soon be sent off, floating through the ether to Blogland with no coat on, only a spotted knapsack on a stick and a note attached, saying “Why in hot, stinky hellfire did I think this might be a good idea?” My answer is, many reasons, which I’ll probably bang on about some other time. However, our Survey said “NNNN-NNNN! Likely wants attention”.
So then. First post. Crikey!