Tuesday, 6 January 2009

Mar is a B, and she stinging everybody

I’m not quite sure of the blog-starting etiquette. In January 2009, I’m so late in joining the hordes of bloggers worldwide that I imagine there should be some fanfare now that I’ve crossed over. I am now a Blogger. [CYMBALS] At least I imagine that would be the stage direction. I realize that this conversion is not at all interesting, especially given the lateness of my arrival – at a time long after people have written articles and directed documentaries about the advent of blogging.

But for me, this is an occasion. I’ve long held out against blogging, thinking that humankind has really reached fresh and ridiculous levels of narcissism to fancy that anyone cares where we buy our glue, or that a man at the supermarket was oh em gee standing SO CLOSE to us in line that we could totally hear him whistle through the gap in his teeth as he breathed and could feel his hot, grody breath ew ew ew OMGWTFBBQ!!!

But apparently, we do care.

And why should we not? Conceivably, we all desire the perfect glue. Nay, deserve it. And I, for one, am always willing to commiserate with those who suffer at the hands of people who haven’t the slightest clue about the all-encompassing significance of Personal Space. You will likely be hearing more about this.

Besides, these days, I call myself a writer. And I suppose one who calls herself a writer should write things. A blog therefore seems convenient. (I used to – with much coercion – call myself an economist. But I’ve stopped all that silliness, having witnessed firsthand the perils of such nomenclature. My withdrawal hasn’t yet stopped others from continuing to call me an economist, and asking my economisty advice. But hopefully soon they shall learn.)

However, I must warn you of a few things before we proceed. First, I sometimes write complex, run-on sentences. This - I have heard - is frowned upon. But I have more faith in the attention spans of my fellow readers than the writing intelligentsia seemingly do. Some of the smartest and most interesting people I’ve encountered are fans of complex sentences, and manage them quite effortlessly. (They worked splendidly for Obama; not as well for John Kerry.) I don’t endorse them when they’re used just to appear bright, but thoughts are complex. At least some of the best ones are. Sometimes they require more than a subject and verb. And if properly executed, long sentences can be fun. Come. Let’s explore them together.

Second, I love asides. I have a random, meandering brain that thinks in asides, which I must, regrettably, share with all of you. For my asides, I often make use of all kinds of colourful punctuation: dashes; parentheses; semi-colons; and my dear, dear friend, the comma. They’re perfectly friendly creatures. I promise.

I also have what you may by now consider the annoying habit of saying first and second rather than firstly and secondly. This is simply because the former are perfectly good adverbs and for the life of me I cannot fathom why we keep replacing perfectly useful parts of speech with weaker, stupider substitutes. You people who say ‘addicting’, I’m looking at you.

I haven’t even a clue about how these blog things work, since clearly I’m making multiple entries on the same day. And based on limited research it would seem as if one is expected to only have one thing to say per day, and neatly archive these things accordingly. But I am a maverick! (Oh the fear that word now strikes in my heart.) And so we press on, stinging all those for miles around with our newfound B(logger) status.

Don’t worry about the title reference. Unless you’re Bajan, or not Bajan but (curiously) a fan of The Mighty Grynner anyway, you’re allowed to just let it go.

1 comment:

  1. First ain't no adverb I ever heard of. You trying to trick me, with your fancy words and your cheap shoes, but I immune to you and that and everything else, secondly and thirdly.


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