Being and Not Being

Let's get this ball rolling. I don't want to find myself wondering what might have been.

Each blog post is utterly unique. If I were to start this post one day earlier or one day later, it would be completely different. If I choose not to write a blog post, I'm banishing a potential gem to the chasm of non-existence. How could I be so cruel?

Every blog post has a right to exist. What if this blog becomes an Einstein or a Michael Jordan? By not writing it, I'm diminishing the glory of the world. It would be selfish and arrogant.

And...

*sigh*

You know, I could continue this train of thought. I could go down the inevitable path of the abortion debate metaphor. It could be slightly tasteless, but ultimately humanistic.

It doesn't matter now. The post has been born. I don't need to worry about it. It exists. Either it's going to be a Jordanstein or it isn't. Why should I waste my time on it? I simply had to focus my attention on giving it safe passage into the world, at which point I should refuse to care for it in any way.

A potential blog post is the most precious thing imaginable, and must be safeguarded at all costs.

Once the blog post exists, it's on its own. I resent it being bailed out by my tax money. 

AAAAAhhhhaha! Abortion debate metaphors are impossible to avoid. I tried to meta my way out of it, and it came back to bite me on the placenta.

Metaphors follow me around like a... oh. They've gone.

I've bitten the skin on my thumb, and now it has started bleeding.

How did that happen?

I'd like Darwin to explain that. What's the evolutionary benefit of biting your thumb until it bleeds? Tooth practice? Building up a resistance to pain? Are female humans attracted to bleeding males? That might be why Ric Flair has been married so many times.

Maybe I'm trying to pass on my genes. Yeah, that's it. Get those genes out of yourself through the thumb. There's no time to procreate. You need to squirt your genetic material at as many people as possible.

Bleed, don't breed.

[Hey guys. Quick interjection here. Is this post... sort of, I don't know... disgusting? 

Yeah. I thought so.]

Bracket-Me is so practical. He's the kind of square that would wear a bicycle helmet. He's so straight-laced. And straight-bracketed. He should be / bloody straight-jacketed.

I prefer Curly-Bracket-Me. He's a bit pompous, but at least he has a certain charming insouciance.

{You don't know me}

Oh man, I've come up with an amazing joke, everyone! Someone sound the joke alarm!

I'll assume that someone has done so. I can't hear anything at the moment because I'm weak and my ears are full of thumb blood.

Here's the joke. It's really good.

Last night, I had a really nonchalant chat with a dead person.

It was an insouséance! 

You see! Really, really good.

(Also the dead person was called Sue)

Turn off the joke alarm. The neighbours are starting to wonder what it is.