R.I.P. BLOGGING
I have just deleted 170 posts going all the way back to 2010. In some strange way, it felt good. Wiping away all the conceited drivel and opinionated trash written with that one aim in mind; self-aggrandizement. You like to think that, because you're a writer, what you have to say might be looked at by strangers who would consider 'following' your wild, ill-advised expeditions into politics and literary self-pity. But what is blogging other than 'showing off', like some cyber pub bar bore or know-it-all barrack room lawyer. Time to shut up shop. The dispossessed have deserted any hope of progress.
The rancid tumor of introverted greed has triumphed over the body politic.
The rancid tumor of introverted greed has triumphed over the body politic.
So the Britain I imagined I knew turns out to be nothing more than a chimera, a vapid cloud of dead spirits. For 55 years I believed in equality, fairness, in an egalitarian notion of our shared humanity and compassion.
May 7 2015 has eradicated all that.
Who needs such outmoded guff.
Who needs such outmoded guff.
The things I once believed in share the same historical shelf as the ideas of the Flat Earth Society and Creationism. So why bother wasting time with the catalogue of self-regarding emotional out-pourings which have crammed the many pages of this blog for five years?
To hell with England. To hell with expression.
What's the point of it all?