No post yesterday. What I had to say was less than trivial. Perhaps a few moments researching “trivial” would be a good investment. When work on this apology is completed, that might occupy a few minutes. Put it another way, what I had to say yesterday was such poor quality, it didn’t even interest me.
It comes down to a decision. Which is more important? Regularity, dependability with a weekday blog entry, or respecting my readers’ time; not expecting them to waste their time on material that doesn’t even interest me?
What’s that? Snickering? It’s not terribly embarrassing. My “readership” is miniscule. Not convinced what I’ll offer is important, there’s not much “following.” Until the value of what I offer is determined – to my satisfaction – growing a following is not high on my priority list. Not even there just yet at all, really. On the list, I mean.
“Egonarcissism” has popped-up several times recently. It’s a real thing. It’s certainly very real among writers. That is my opinion. Supporting that opinion, examination of the writing community has taken much of my time recently. I’ve gone about that examination seriously and honestly. My belief in my assessment is unshakeable. My own affliction is also confirmed.
I try for, tried yesterday for humor. That rapidly decomposed into bile. Not for a blog. That’s for the “rant” pages.
Humor is good. In these times it is difficult to maintain a sense of humor. Trying to do so frequently exposes one (me) to denigration. It’s probably a poor analogy, probably needs more work, but humor is breathing. If you don’t breathe, empirical evidence suggests death follows.
Join me in sucking-in a lungful of Saharan dust. A lungful of partisan politics. A lungful of hatred on countless issues, crossing social boundaries. A lungful of insanity, mixed with ignorance, scented with intolerance all the while maintaining, espousing, equal treatment and respect for all. Join me.
At least I’ll die laughing. If the egonarcissism doesn’t put me down first.