Thursday, May 12, 2005

This Is Not A Blog Post



Welcome to "this is not a blog post", a truly amateurish and bumbling pouring-out of the heart. And whatever brains I have left.

I have been doing real blogging for a few days now, on Eschaton, and I have worked very hard. Not that it shows much in the results, because I condense them into a little pill, suitable for being shot out of an air rifle. But goddess the amount of research that goes into that! I have a totally different level of respect for all real journalists and bloggers now. Awe, in fact.

Now I also know pretty much everything that is going on in American politics, and believe me, it ain't pretty. There are mules involved and group sex and who knows what else! Someone should write a book on wingnut sex. It would be a best seller, even among the wingnuts, though they must know most of it already.

Part of my time has been spent in the outer reaches of the marshland that some call the right blogosphere. Where the wingnuts have their own little blogs and stuff. I don my hazmat suit and big wading boots and a butterfly net and go hunting there. But it's hard work, hard work for a kindly and sensitive goddess. Afterwards I need to shower several times and then weep into my nectar mug. - I have learned that the one thing all wingnuts share is their dislike of feminists, by the way. Some of them worship the Southern Baptist god, some worship the evolutionary psychologists, some worship nothing but their own private parts and many worship money. But they all hate and fear me and women like me.

Which should make me feel powerful. But I'm already powerful, being of the divine type, and there is something very sad about people who have decided that most of their problems would be solved if another type of people would just agree to go on their knees (and yes, interpret that as you may). Just like there is something very sad about all people who find simple certainties the solution to life's traumas, because simple certainties are like free lunches: they don't exist.

Ok. Where was I? Free lunches don't exist. And neither do free blogs, really. Someone must do the research and writing on every blog that gets regularly renewed, and my hat goes up to all of those who do this invisible toiling. Or my hat would go up if I wore one. Bloggers deserve some praise in these days when it's fashionable to discuss the deplorable lack of professional standards and ethics in the blogosphere. Regard this post as my salute to all the amateurish and unethical bloggers out there, even the wingnut ones.