When you have a blog and a lot of spare time, you can probably crank out a whole whack of these things. Since your time is far from scarce, the tiniest little thought or semblance of a thought makes it to your page. In your landscape as a baseless slacker, little ideas seem big and its not like your going to spend much time editing your own content because if you don’t like one entry, you certainly have enough time to cram another one in there later in the day.
Because you are who you are, you can write six different entries on the gravity gun in Half-Life 2 and still be able to fit a few paragraphs in on why Food Network should have more recipes that involve Pizza Pops, and why that girl in that movie with that guy in it is really hot.
Although, to be fair, the gravity gun is pretty neat.
Not that I need a point, but it seems that I was getting at something; the issues of importance that I might write about seem to have come and gone by the time that I might get to them. This is extremely frustrating since I find that buzzing cloud of punditry to be painfully obvious – it is not without some merit for Anderson Cooper (gosh, he’s adorable) to note that a hurricane is bad because people have died and that politicians should therefore act with an appropriate degree of solemnity. It is almost without parallel in the annals of intellectual atrocity to assume that this pronouncement is good journalism. Similarly, my daughter can point at our cat and scream ‘KITTYKITTYKITTYKITTYCAAAAAAAAAAAATT!!’ with air-raid warning intensity, but this does not make her a zoologist, let alone a good one to be lauded across the rich tapestry of teh internets. 
I started this blog back in February with the full intention of writing a column a week and hopefully giving it a little more substance and content that the average intellectual gash in the space-time continuum that shows up in LiveJournal when the 16 year-old girls discovers that a) her boyfriend only likes her in hopes of having sex, and b) she is too homely to want to have sex with more than once. Sadly, I’m guessing that my written output is less interesting than the journal of a single mom who cosplays some silly vampire RP. At least there’s a chance that the undead single mom might web-cam you her boobs. Fortunately for the world at large, I do not have this option. So when I read this;
“The placid, almost complicit enablers of 24-hour cable news media will now need to sit up and take notice when tragedy faces them. It’s not just enough to seem serious in the face of political disaster profiteering, sometimes a person with a bit of a chip on their shoulder needs to look us in our collective apathy and say, “KITTYKITTYKITTYKITTYCAAAAAAAAAAAAATT!!”.
I’m not there with an editorial bitch-slap.
My problem is that while the neck-bearders of the world are trying to think of a page that really gets the sublime and nearly transcendental coolness of getting goon-faced on absinthe, I can’t even manage a good screed on the comfortable topic of hating CNN.
Why? Because I got here too late. When I was in the age of surplus time, the blog did not exist. If you wanted to whip up a web page full of your own musings you pretty much had to do it yourself, and that required some native technical skills back in the mid 17th century. Also, the blog has offered us some camouflage; if the ever-expanding canopy of unsolicited opinion had not been created this way, then we would all be seen for the naked, self absorbed flesh puddles that we all are.
Who wants that?
So now that I can blend in by railing on about fictional pastries and even less interesting topics I find myself too firmly glued up in the world of being busy and responsible. Now that the formatting is nice and it takes no discernible skills to create a blog, I’m barren of the leisure time needed to create one that is equal in volume to the estimate of my own intelligence.
So this, ultimately is why I really hate you a lot. You have the time and the access to fiddle your sticks in a world that is more technologically indulgent than mine was and in doing so you have illuminated that I have just become old enough to become bitter about the growing gap between what I could do and what can now be done.
A curmudgeonly seed has been planted. Congratulations.
I’m going to try and write more, but if I can’t you’re gonna get it.
KITTYKITTYKITTYKITTYCAAAAAAAAAAAATT!!
