Phew it’s hard writing a blog isn’t it, every day, trying to be interesting, to be smart, to say something meaningful, wondering if people are liking you and why would anyone care about what you have to say anyway, I mean, you’re just a silly bunny, the Village Idiot mum would say, just trying to get attention and liking repeating the same joke over and over again because for you the humour only increases exponentially with repetition, particularly the more idiotic the joke.
The Village Idiot was an affectionate term, it wasn’t mean to distress or harm, though it might have helped exacerbate that deep self-consciousness and made you try and keep quiet when you wanted to shout.
And now we can all embrace our Village Idiot and spout our nonsense on a daily basis across the entire planet, look at us all, Village Idiots everywhere, spewing forth words and stuff and loose info and homemade music and inane banter and little gold nuggets occasionally.
Golly I’m loose today.
I like the spew of banter, I think, yes I do – it’s good – it means that no matter what, there is language, there is discussion and yes, there is a lot of junk, entire oceans of it, but that doesn’t really matter if in expunging that oily sea of junk one tiny glimmer of gold is set free to the world… hmmm – now I’m wondering, does it? Because I got a flash of those poor BP birds and thought – now - it wasn’t worth spilling that for one more trip down the open highway, now was it. Oh dear, now I’ve run myself into a corner.
Oceans of crap. And somewhere in cyberspace, tiny nuggets of floating gold. It does exist. I hope I’m not contributing to the BP spill. Though I definitely did just spill today.