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I was talking to someone earlier today - let's call him "Alex Clissold-Johns" - about something. We were talking via the email machine, not in person. I don't have much call to use vocal communication these days. Not since my jaw was wired shut because the local priest thought I had a "sinful molar".

Something came up about churches (which, now that I think about it, might be why I mentioned a priest just now), and I was going to explain my point of view. But I remembered that I'd written a blog post about it some time ago. So I just gave him the link:

http://headscissors.blogspot.com/2008/02/confession.html

Linking seemed like a good solution. I wouldn't have to cover old ground, and could refer him to a place where I had articulated my feelings and experiences more precisely.

It then occurred to me that I could do this more often. The more blog posts I've written, the greater the chances that I will have written something relevant to the conversation.

(Vigilant readers will recognise this as an error. I only have about four topics of conversation, and have basically been writing the same thing over and over again for the past four and a half years, occasionally bringing things up-to-date with a topical noun. But let's ignore that for now - it interferes with my "point".)

If I'm ever communicating with someone online, I can save myself a lot of time by pointing them to a URL. If the topic of fruit came up, for example (as it often does), instead of taking the time and effort to think of something interesting to say, I can just point them to a blog post where I discussed fruit in a hilarious and inventive way. Like this. Except hilarious and inventive.

Even if our conversation is on a topic that I don't have a totally relevant post to link to, there's no reason why I can't nudge them into that direction.

"Yes Gary, it must be difficult dealing with your redundancy. You were married to that job, in a way. It must be a bit like becoming a widower. Hey, that reminds me of this! LOL!"

I can't use it when I'm speaking to people in person. The human brain has not yet adapted itself to competently process URLs. But I'm sure they'll come out with something soon. I can just think of the relevant blog post, and then communicate it through some kind of retina explosion.

I'd never have to think of anything new ever again! I'd never have to actually engage with another human being! Just imagine...

Of course, I'd spend most of my time writing blog posts on topics that I feel are likely to come up in conversation. I'd have to have quite a large back catalogue. I'd have to anticipate all possible future events. It might even be more work than, you know, talking to people.

But at least it will have embedded videos! I can convey meaning through italics and punctuation!

Someone should write a disappointing television drama about this dystopian future: we're all just referring to previous events, and are unable to process the present. There will be no direct communication with anyone. It can be called U.R.HELL. Or some kind of footnote pun.

I actually have been close to this terrible technopocalypse in real life.

You've never felt more out of touch with reality than when you reply to a thoughtful text from your mum, asking how you are, with the phrase: "see my blog for further details".

***

Speaking of dystopian futures, the Blogger spell check doesn't recognise the word 'dystopian'. It suggests 'dustpan'.

ORWELL WAS RIGHT! IT HAS BEGUN!

Of course, it doesn't recognise the word 'Blogger' either. So I don't know what to believe.

***

It's getting dark. That's the evening for you. As sure as day follows night, evening is always in the middle of the two of them.

I don't mind the cold, but I am not a big fan of winter's early darkness. Even my legendarily sunny disposition is not enough to chase away the 5pm-and-we-need-the-lights-on blues.

I need Spring. I hunger for it, just as I hunger for chocolate eggs, daffodil petals, and buns that signify a horrific method of execution.

But it's not far away. And I can deal with the gloom by utilising a number of techniques, including "not sleeping in until 11" and neon baby chicks.

I can also listen to music, which cares not for light levels (except for The Darkness, and we shouldn't try to please them).

In making my regular playlist this week, I rediscovered an Otis Redding song. This can't help but cheer you up. As long as you don't pay too much attention to the lyrics.