Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Introduction

            Let’s be honest, if you’re reading this, it’s by accident. Perhaps you were conducting a search for “Lady Gaga” or “Justin Beiber”, and this came up because I just mentioned them in a cheap bid for search hits. Or perhaps you were performing an eerily specific search for “Optimus Prime disembowels Taco Bell Chihuahua, in which case: Welcome, you sick, sick bastard. Or perhaps you’re here because I’ve been relentlessly spamming comments sections to advertise this blog. Irregardless, you certainly weren’t looking for “guy angrily ranting about nothing in particular”, unless you are remarkably bored and/or masochistic.
            Now, if you didn’t furiously press the back button the second you realized that this has absolutely nothing to do with the “State of the Union Address”, you’re obviously imaginary. And I don’t really care about this, the main reason I started this blog was as a dialogue between me and the particular voices in my head with whom I am currently allied. But my ego demands the illusion of my importance, or else it shuts off my liver, so I am under obligation to pretend somebody’s listening to this (That’s right, “listen to it”. Not only to I have to pretend you’re reading this, I have to pretend that you’re reading it aloud. Nonetheless, I like my liver, so the fa├žade continues).
I intend to write this fairly regularly, barring a highly negative reception or actual armed response, so it’s important that I set down a few guidelines for myself. I know if I don’t, I’ll wind up writing a thousand words about lima beans and the various ways they can be killed (You watch. They’re coming). So without further ado, I present you with:

Regulations!
Please Don’t Call the Police!

1. No information on the coming lima bean apocalypse: I’ve said too much already.
2. No optimism: This really surprises you? This is the internet. Also, I’m a cynic. Optimists see the glass as half full. Cynics say you haven’t filled the glass all the way, just where is the rest of the glass-filling material? Actually, a true cynic would assume that whatever was in the glass was poisoned, and make you drink it because you just tried to poison them. Of course, a true cynic would assume you would be expecting that, and take up defensive positions. I’d carry the analogy further, but we’re getting to the point in the narrative where firearms get involved.
3. None of my political views: I’m on enough watch lists as it is. Long story. I don’t even think I’m allowed in Finland anymore.
4. No information whatsoever on my life: I prefer to remain an enigmatic figure, somewhere between Batman and Barney the Dinosaur (More on Barney later. Maybe).
5. No emoticons: Seriously. I’m leading an active campaign against these things. Look at the symbol for “Happy”
:)
Now, we all know what that’s supposed to mean, but take an objective look at that “face”. The eyes are nothing more than pinpricks that probably have no ocular capabilities, the mouth is disproportionately huge to the point where it probably has trouble ingesting food, it’s lacking key facial features, and this thing is still freaking smiling at you. What we have here is a deformed, pitiful creature that has long since given up on its sanity, its head cocked, just waiting for its opportunity to strike.
“Happy”? This thing will be happy when you’re dead. Kill it before it kills you.

Notice that nowhere here do I specify what exactly I intend to write about. This is because I’m quite familiar with the way my life works, right now at least. If I set out to write a series of video game reviews, then I would wake up in the dead of night after posting my first one with a burning conviction to write an appraisal of the financial factors affecting Zimbabwe. If I set out to write a frank commentary on the international community, then a crazed gunman would burst into my house late at night and demand that I mock Kim Kardashian in a public medium (This happens more often than you might think). And, of course, if I just kept an accord of my private life, then I would be apprehended by the authorities within 48 hours.
This means that just writing about what happens to be on my mind is my only option, aside from actually contributing to society. On the other hand, "writing what's on my mind" hasn't worked out so well for me, historically speaking, so let me know if you can think of anything for me to write about.