Headed to the car

I always imagined this website as a lightweight thing filled with amusing lies that take about hundred and fifty words to tell. It hasn’t turned out that way and I blame a weird development in my personality since I started my Masters. I have become more serious.

I was never laid back. I was never cool and one of the requirements for cool is to be relaxed, to think, “take it easy”. I’ve always wanted to take it all, easy, hard, big, small, fast and slow-- everything. I have no time to settle for just taking it easy.

I never lied to myself about this personality trait that constantly, obsessively searches for more challenges. My dad lies about his personality and he counsels advice about putting things in perspective and taking things slowly but his actual idea of a holiday is modifying the seat on a 1986 Volkswagen Golf with some left over bits of plastic from an old toolbox and a discarded radio he found in a skip. Once the Golf has a safety harness and in-seat heating installed and functioning he can get down to the serious bits of the holiday and fit new windows into the cottage he is staying in and then when it gets so dark that the maglites don’t make any appreciable difference, he will retire inside to do a bit of painting and maybe read some manuals. Or maps. My dad enjoys maps too much.

Back on track you! The point is that I have become more serious since I started this sociology thing. I enjoy mischief and conversation just as much but I need to warm up to it. If I meet a witty friend on the bus or in the street, I feel like it takes me about 20 minutes (who am I kidding, an hour at least) before I get into sync and start being witty. Before that, the best I can do is facilitate the other person’s humour.

There is no glorification of the ego in helping other people be funny.

I don’t know what I should do to stop the rot. I may be a bit to involved in the substantial books I have to read and I should go back to comedy for a while or horror of horrors read some of that shitty science fiction so many seemingly sane people enjoy. Or they claim to enjoy it. Maybe the pages of those books are laced with pheromones that only work after prolonged exposure and the sci-fi readers got into a rut by watching Star Trek (which has visual pheromones- that explains its success) and then it transfers over to their Iain M Banks novels and their Circles of Plentotasia of Mogdragon II fan fiction crap.

One thing I could do to lighten this blog up and stop me from writing about theology or computer science or evolution would be to go down the fan fiction route. Do the great bloggers have fan-fiction groupies?

I could do a Mimi Smartypants fan fiction blog where I imagine Mimi and her cohorts move to Dublin and I create magnificent adventures for them. Or I could do fan fiction for que sera sera and imagine that she doesn’t move to New York to become the darling of the literary set but instead moves to Belfast and joins a republican political party. My friend I would have to do the erotic fan fiction for Mrs Kennedy because I suspect he has a crush on her. Who wouldn’t though? Very few funny male bloggers I notice.

– Your Correspondent, Caught up in organised crime

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