Two Years Old

Another day, another anniversary. I'm sure most blog writers aren't so time-conscious, but I've always been a maverick.

Today marks the two year anniversary of starting this whole enterprise. That's right: Headscissors was born on 2 July 2007. The first entry was short and tentative. I seemed to think I'd be writing about news events and wrestling (which never really happened). Though I was right about offering stupid theories on life.

I probably exhausted all my nostalgic material in the 300th post below, so I won't bother repeating myself. If there's one thing I never do on this blog - it's repetition. Repetition is a crutch. I avoid repetition whenever possible. Whenever possible.

(Ha! That was a joke about repetition! And I was repeating myself! That's the joke! Ha!)

One thing is certain: it feels like a lot longer than two years. I can't believe it's only been that long since I was living in Sidmouth and writing my dissertation. It seems like a different world.

The elasticity of time is confusing. I feel like a child, and yet really old. My work-week passes slowly and my weekend flies by. Everything seems like it was yesterday, except yesterday (which feels like the day before tomorrow - at least it does today).

It's difficult to remember what to forget when you're constantly moving forward. The moment you have all your notes sorted out, you have to record the note-making process itself. You can never catch up.

I'm going to make some room in my brain, so I can recall more of life with clarity. I've decided the best place to conserve space is Bond films. Seeing and remembering all the Bond films is unnecessary. It's just taking up room (like the huge amounts of room taken up in my parents' house with videos. Of Bond films.)

A few Bond films, sure. I wouldn't want to get rid of You Only Live Twice or Goldeneye. But no-one needs to remember For Your Eyes Only. That information is completely superfluous. Knowledge of that film is about as useful as memorising the shoe-size of every Pope. [~~Insert Catholic Cobblers Joke Here~~]

I think the film was called For Your Eyes Only because it contained no ideas, or incidents. It was just images. Nothing for the brain. Only for the eyes.

If I get rid of that memory, I might have room to store an extra week of my life. Of course, any given week of my life is just as bereft of incident as For Your Eyes Only, but at least it's slightly more relevant to me.

So, that's it. I've decided to do it. And now I've done it. I don't remember that thing. You know - what's it called... that thing.

Hey! Now I can suddenly remember a whole week of my life. It was previously hidden by useless knowledge, but is now uncovered like a Mayan altar under vomit.

What a week is was! My most abiding memory of those halcyon days is watching For Your Eyes Only several times. They were crazy times...

I'll never forget it.