Blogging used to be so simple. I'd suck down a cup of strong black coffee and rave about the first thing that popped into my head. Badgers. The wind. Pittsburgh. It didn't matter. Everything, including windy badgers from Pittsburgh, has made me angry at some point.
These days, though, I take a more measured, thoughtful attitude toward blogging, mainly because it's been pointed out to me that readers might be put off by forth-mouthed rants, and when readers are put off, to be blunt, they spend their lovely lovely money elsewhere.
And we wouldn't want that. So here I am, trying to think warm and fuzzy thoughts about...um...at this point, anything.
I'm really not very good at being the voice of sweetness and light. You see a basket of kittens, I see a pile of vet bills and probable contraction of ascaris intestinal roundworms. You see Newt Gingrich, and I see -- well, I can't say what I see, because in that direction lies the Forbidden Land of the Mad-Eyed Rant.
There are only so many heart-warming tales of whatever it is that warms hearts that I can tell. And to be honest I can't tell those in anything resembling a convincing fashion. Anyway, wouldn't increasing the temperature of a heart be dangerous if not suddenly fatal? "Oh look, I just raised your cardiopulmonary temperature to 212 degrees Fahrenheit. Why are you lying so still?"
Maybe I should write an Overly Literal Christmas Story and post it here.
Hmmm...I like that! Stay tuned....
These days, though, I take a more measured, thoughtful attitude toward blogging, mainly because it's been pointed out to me that readers might be put off by forth-mouthed rants, and when readers are put off, to be blunt, they spend their lovely lovely money elsewhere.
And we wouldn't want that. So here I am, trying to think warm and fuzzy thoughts about...um...at this point, anything.
I'm really not very good at being the voice of sweetness and light. You see a basket of kittens, I see a pile of vet bills and probable contraction of ascaris intestinal roundworms. You see Newt Gingrich, and I see -- well, I can't say what I see, because in that direction lies the Forbidden Land of the Mad-Eyed Rant.
There are only so many heart-warming tales of whatever it is that warms hearts that I can tell. And to be honest I can't tell those in anything resembling a convincing fashion. Anyway, wouldn't increasing the temperature of a heart be dangerous if not suddenly fatal? "Oh look, I just raised your cardiopulmonary temperature to 212 degrees Fahrenheit. Why are you lying so still?"
Maybe I should write an Overly Literal Christmas Story and post it here.
Hmmm...I like that! Stay tuned....
