Sunday, April 10, 2005
Gone and Forgotten
The days come and go like muffled and veiled figures sent from a distant friendly party, but they say nothing, and if we do not use the gifts they bring, they carry them as silently away.
One of my Blogs was carried silently away during the Great April the Eighth Blogger downday regroup. Blogger mustered just enough power to trick me into crafting a *cough* three thousand word dissertation on Life, the Universe and all the little bits in between, before a black cloud descended, from where emerged little shadowy, malevolent sprites who dragged it (Ghost-like) skittering-ly, but quietly, oh so quietly, away.
From then on only sickly parodies of the Blogger publishing pages could be summoned. A blur of enlarged fonts, inflated gaps and bloated crevices. Design concepts tottering around in half formed, still born, runtified versions of the real deal. And my entry. Strangled at birth. Mercy killed.
It was crap anyway.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)
One of my Blogs was carried silently away during the Great April the Eighth Blogger downday regroup. Blogger mustered just enough power to trick me into crafting a *cough* three thousand word dissertation on Life, the Universe and all the little bits in between, before a black cloud descended, from where emerged little shadowy, malevolent sprites who dragged it (Ghost-like) skittering-ly, but quietly, oh so quietly, away.
From then on only sickly parodies of the Blogger publishing pages could be summoned. A blur of enlarged fonts, inflated gaps and bloated crevices. Design concepts tottering around in half formed, still born, runtified versions of the real deal. And my entry. Strangled at birth. Mercy killed.
It was crap anyway.
// posted by garroo @ 3:10 am 
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