Wellington Leg: I like conspiracy theories and here’s why: the alternative is to accept my limitations as a person or concede that the Big Bang blew life into existence in a particle acceleration experiment conducted without any supervision at all, and, if that’s true, we’ve created a vast hypothetical construct reduced to the old adage that truth is stranger than fiction. If that’s the case then I’m really not at the dinner table when I’m at the dinner table, it’s an illusion, not a conspiracy after all.
More mainstream thoughts on blogging: like ironing, vacuuming, snowboarding, our ancestors did without this verb or participle or gerund whatever the hell it is in large part because they were fleeing from large carnivorous animals conjured from the depths of their subconscious minds. Now we blog ever mindful of the concern this activity creates in those whose task it is to both be concerned and to express that concern in a conspiracy theory sort of way, ie, that any idiot may now stand on a soap box in this virtual Hyde Park and say anything they want. When did this happen? They wonder.
Existential issues aside, they are dining on the stop sign having forgotten the fundamental fact that we’re not actually here at all. You’re not reading this! It’s all an illusion. Save yourselves while there is still time. Stop blogging before a Designated Cultural Critic pulls you over and writes a really big ticket.
To add a note of hard news to this dispatch: “A fifteen inch beagle won the Westminster Dog Show.” Conspiracy? Illusion? Would a forty two inch high definition plasma beagle carry the day?
NOW you tell me.
I meant to tell you sooner. BTW, who measures Beagles? Is there a Society?