To challenge and exorcise the mental organ

Nobody should be reading this, and if they are, I will demand in the strongest terms possible that you cease and desist, because what is the Internet for, if not personal privacy?

No, gentle reader, this particular blog has come into existence for a number of reasons- some of which have to do with you, in fact. Yes, you, the person sitting in that chair, comfortable and warm as your buttocks crease deep folds in your cushion. You are wearing your underwear, probably and hopefully, and are well-satisfied with your lot in life.

It's all a sham, however. If you've delved so deeply that you have no recourse other than to read the inane ramblings of a madman, it's time to sit (which you are well situated for, unless you're at some bizarre standing computer terminal of torture) and reflect upon the many small and minute changes you should have made to your life. Think of all those times you picked a scab, and immediately regretted it as a torrent of blood poured forth from the reopened wound. Or when you clipped your nails too short, and it really was annoying for a week or so. Reflecting on these things, perhaps you'll feel strong enough to take a deep breath, over and over until you pass out. Then, when you wake up, you'll confusedly wonder why you were unconscious and go look at porn.

To stay on topic, however, it is your fault that I am wasting my time with this. Just as I don't believe in wind or the Postal Service, I also don't believe that one should write things down for the sake of it. Thoughts belong in your head: that's where they live, and dance and play.

However, when someone else looks at a thought that you've written down, then it becomes an idea. In this case, a bad idea, but an idea nonetheless. For example, you've read "Huckleberry Finn" and you get an idea, such as "Twain's narrative of the river journey is an excellent allegory to life", whereas you read this and get the idea "Oh great, another blog writer trying to be funny. Fortunately, I am too hip and opinionated to care and also I don't use words like 'hip', but I do drink coffee drinks, so that counts for something." And so because I am imparting an idea to a phantom audience that only exists in my head, it feels like I'm making a difference, and as long as I feel that way, I don't actually have to do anything worthwhile. It's how my whole generation works, actually, and I'm proud to have joined the farce.

So sit back and enjoy as I undoubtedly forget this blog even exists and never return, leaving this lone post as a solemn marker of my semi-casual attitude at work.

-M