I am being…well, one hates to say “harassed,” but that is, indeed, what I am being. Harassed, as I said, to write a column.
Because, oh, horrors, I didn’t have one ready. Well, yes, certainly, I should have. But I didn’t. Cant was down, and I took it as vacation time. Real columnists take vacations, right? They just slap up some older columns and go on their merry way. Or ways. Or maybe they do all vacation at the same place, some elite, Professional Columnist Only resort, hidden on a small island off the coast of Montenegro. To which, of course, I have never been invited. But, honestly, why would they invite me? Invite all of the scrabbling little Internet columnists working on blog-like sites…well, there must be others, right? Anyway, the scabrous little bloggers must consider themselves columnists of a sort, too. Filthy little vermin that they are.
Dirty, sniveling little sub-writers, who think that’s it’s enough, who call it a bloody damn day after ham-fistedly pounding out some letters that form half-legible sentences, often about their feelings. Their feelings. Who gives a damn about feelings, eh? What are feelings? Nothing! Nothing to me, anyway, not the feelings of these decrepit little toads. It doesn’t serve me to know that they’re happy, or not. I don’t know the bastards, so why should I care? Well, I don’t.
Of course, this is all just supposition, since I don’t read many of the things. As in, I read one. Occasionally. Oh, wait, I have another one, RPG-related, bookmarked. But I never check it. But I’ve seen a few others, and they’re all nonsensical crap about someone’s day.
Dear blog-things: The world at large mocks your pain. And your taste in clothing. Of course, nothing is mocked with greater gusto than your insipid taste in music. “Insipid” being, of course, far too kind. Your taste in literature is equally invalid, what with your almost criminally deranged fixation on unicorns, or hatred of unicorns. The details don’t really matter.
Remember that I was mocking furries, here, in a public forum, before it became hip and trendy to do so. Oh, and now they’re mocking the sick bastards on primetime TV. So passé. Obviously, it’s now time to stir up the backlash against blogs.
Oh, wait. Warren Ellis’s sometimes has interesting things on it. But he’s established his credibility in other ways. Plus, he probably hates you, too.