Having recently fallen off his soapbox, Jo lay there, wondering, as people who fall off their soapboxes often do, about life and death and all that other stuff that comes in between. For a moment it seemed almost like meaningful reflection, until he spied from his vantage a silver spoon that had rolled underneath the sofa sometime before.
Easily distracted by all things shiny insight took the opportunity to crawl away and escape. It was caught several days later trying to cross the border with a fake Danish passport. Which is probably a good thing. After all who knows where it might have ended up? Trying to take over the world or abusing the elderly.
And so having fallen from… not very high, insight-less and clutching a tarnished silver spoon Jo was forced to consider the veritable facts. Was he pushed? Or did he fall?
I like words and ideas. Syntax and grammar less so. Therefore to preserve the equanimity of the reader I feel I should apologize right near the beginning. Also, since we are being upfront about my literary faux pas, I sometimes arbitrarily switch between American and original English without noticing. Color me sorry. Sentence structure is also often poorly constructed, with strange bits added for effect (and some bits left out entirely, usually by accident). This prose should definitely not be fed after midnight or combined with any form of medication, prescription or otherwise.
I feel that maybe I should also point out (while we are here) that I am not very clever. Probably shoehorned in there somewhere near the rounded bit on the bell curve, but conceited enough to wonder why I’m surrounded by all these idiots. (Dunning-Kruger effect)
Everything I write is almost always rudimentary, poorly masticated and riddled with dogmatic beliefs.
This blog has two core intentions…
It is meant to serve as a type of Bildungsroman – that is a story chronicling the education of its protagonist. Ie. Me. It is not meant to garner support, espouse ideology or generate income. It has no other function other than to exist and suggest that the author at least tried to lead a considered life. Although it probably comes across as ‘empty, played out Gen-X pseudo-profundity‘ to paraphrase Adrian Tomine.
The other objective is, that if/when I die (ie. Go Darke) my kids have access to some first hand information that will tell them what their dad was like and what interested him (A form of redundancy plan from beyond the grave).
If forced to codify myself with nouns and adjectives I tend to resort to this pithy summation of me.
Apatheistic omnivore. Likes books with pictures in them, fisticuffs and conveyor belt sushi. Libertarian ideologue and worst stoic ever.
This is probably fairly accurate. Although this also works.
‘Jo… has good intentions… but with a fuck-you attitude’
–Father Paul Seggie, on describing me to one of his parishioners
- I rarely do comments. Truth be told I mostly just want to be left alone.
- I’m glad you’re here though.