No One Reads This Anymore

Well, it's happened again. I have allowed the blog to be silent for long enough that only the hardest of the hardcore readers are still here. I can see them warming their hands over the flickering light of a burning oil drum, waiting for some kind of light to return to this darkened back alley of the internet. They try to cheer each other with retellings of the better days, when posts flowed like water and I was witty and urbane. They pry open a tin of beans to share, and eat with their eyes focused in the temporal middle-distance; they see either the hoped-for future or the longed-for past, I can't tell which.

That's right - I just reduced my loyal readers to the hobo citizenry of a tent city. Such is the long, dark night of the blogger's soul. I'm in the dreaded process of trying to figure out what this blog is about again.

I could tell you about school, but student angst is overdone.
I could write about the women I love, but that garners a sort of sympathy that I don't deserve.
I could write about politics, but that's being done by others, and so much better than I would ever care to do it.
I could go back to creating stories about the people I see in the computer labs, but I don't work the weird shifts anymore, and the really interesting characters only come out in the wee hours of the morning.
I could expound on my social theory, but I don't want to end up like Nietzsche; spending the final years of my life as an invalid in the care of my sister sounds crappy.
I could rant about animal rights issues, and make the readers hate me for shoving veganism down their throats, but I'm just not veganazi enough for that.
I could turn this into the Ajax, Imelda, and Gandalf show, but there are enough revoltingly cute pet blogs.
I could talk about my spiritual journey, but that implies some kind of peace, of which I have none.

Perhaps I'll just go back to the beginning, back to the Il Penseroso days. Back to just writing whatever pops into my head. Maybe it doesn't need a common thread of any kind, or maybe the common thread is just that it's written by me.

Throw another bundle of trash in the oil drum. It's going to be a long night.

What Could Have Been...

I am completely exhausted.

Between work, the comic, the blogs, the new bird, sociology, stats, handball, volleyball, and badminton, (and some Halo) I am completely out of time. In order to do everything I want to do, I am on a tight schedule that no longer includes food, sleep, or alas, pr0n. I am taking steps to rectify this situation, but until my employers accept my completely reasonable proposal for maintaining my current pay grade while reducing my work day by 4 hours ("I'd be ever so much more productive if I didn't have to come in until noon..."), there is no real solution in sight. Something must give. Perhaps I could cut back on grooming... Cleanliness is for the lazy anyway - I'm too busy to bathe!

No - I can't let the BCPs down like that; my ability to smell good despite being a sweaty boy is legendary. No, something else has to get scaled back. The past few days, that thing has been this blog.

Instead of making actual posts I have just been storing up the ideas (Google Notebook is a wonderful tool). As a lame form of penance for not posting since Monday, here are the links to the topics I was going to blog about. Enjoy the links, and try to imagine the wry comments I would have made about each...

Interesting spiritual guidance from Church of the Churchless.

The huge birdcage I am considering buying for my babies. (Any bigger and I could help out the county by taking in a few low-risk inmates for the weekend when the jail is too full.)

The new version of the "Fortress of Solitude"* that I am considering buying for myself for Christmas. (Hard core readers will remember the original Fortress of Solitude from Flock Hall 1...).
*Fuck-proof brackets sold separately.

And speaking of Flock Hall, the Flock Hall 2.0 blog is actually active again. This week's topic is bath vs shower - feel free to join the debate.

I was going to post something on how the President of Iran is a tool, but Max beat me to it.

Now don't just roll over this post and say to yourself, "A linkfest? Weak, dude." These are quality links... get back up there, and clicky-clicky!

I Return

Like so many ideas, it sounded reasonable at the time. I had the funny, he had the pretty... joining them would be easy. We began with light hearts and a very random posting schedule, and for a time we just amused ourselves and our friends. It seemed there was always time for a good sermon, no need to worry about continuity, and plenty of apple butter to go 'round. We bathed in the comments of our readers, who laughed and cried with us, and slowly named themselves "fans."

And there it began to change.

You see, the fan is to the internet creator as the faithful are to the preacher. If they come to your little church, and maybe bring others with them, it proves to you that all of your pulpit pounding is not in vain. For that vindication, you must give them something in return. You have to offer up what they seek - be it guidance or salvation or an example or protection - in the proper doses to keep them coming back for another hit. In short, you now have a responsibility to your flock.

Although the comic rolls along, the blog has not. I have failed in my responsibility. I was called away to the mountaintop (well, a mountain of paperwork, but still) and I left you to your own devices. Although I was given no stone tablets with commandments to bring back with me, I did sort of expect to find you all dancing naked at the feet of a golden calf. Apparently, in my absence, cooler heads prevailed (which is comforting and disappointing at the same time).

Please understand that I am sorry, and to make ammends, I intend to begin a frenzy of posting that will rival the Great Comment War of '04. There will be religious posts, funny posts, sick posts, clever posts - hell, I might even talk about Harry Potter's wang again...

It's good to be back.