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 under the wire 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 prescription medication.
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 tainted by privilege, a high level of affluence and a Teutonic upbringing. That’s just the way it is, I just write what I happen to be thinking at the time. I’d like to believe that I have no dogmatic beliefs and more than anything I’d like to think that my mind can be changed about anything.
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 tried to lead a considered life.
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).
‘Jo… has good intentions… but with a fuck you attitude’ – Father Paul Seggie, on describing me to one of his parishioners
I also like dogs. Particularly German Shepherds and Basset hounds. I have one of each and I feel this entitles me to wax on (often) nauseatingly about duality, dichotomy and duplexity (as well as other things that alliterate but broadly mean the same thing).
This is basically my blog (or maybe me) in a nutshell