Well, I suppose it's for my own good...

I haven't blogged much lately, have I? There are, of course, reasons for this neglect - I expect - but I'm damned if I can be bothered to wonder what they might be, so let's just agree that it's all some kind of unsolvable mystery, shall we? Is that OK?

Good.

Because that always sounds so much more edifying than chronic laziness...

Anyway, while I've been away: somewhere in the back of my head - evidently very quietly and sneakily, because ordinarily I wouldn't stand for such treachery and open rebellion - my brain appears to have been thinking. Yes, thinking. Making decisions even. Bothersome bloody thing. I mean, it would have been nice if it had at least consulted me first, before traipsing off and planning my life without me. But, oh no, not my br...

Well, anyway, I want some sleep, so I suppose I'd better hand over the blogpost now. Or so the blackmail note reads. Sigh.

Go on then, brain, get on with it:

Thanks. So nice to feel welcome... I should imagine.

But down to business:

My grudging host has already referred to his neglect of this blog; sadly, it's not the only one upon which he has been bestowing his abundant laziness. Indeed, over the past year, his taking-place-in-the-future blog has received even more generous helpings. So much so, that it's now in the past. Well, enough of this laxity! There shall be changes around here. Just see if there aren't!

And indeed that's the point: you readers will see quite clearly if there aren't. So, once they've been promised and detailed here, there'll have to be changes. What those changes shall be I shall come to in due course, but first a few words about myself:

Clearly, I am not really a brain, merely a postmodern affectation designed to distance its author from the sincerity of his own intentions. He's woefully fond of postmodern affectations, you'll have noticed. Less so, of appearing sincere when he sets out to do anything at which he might fail. I am here because he has plans: optimistic plans. He's always distrusted optimistic plans. All the more reason, then, to announce them in such a way that, should they fail, it might at least appear, later, that he hadn't been stupid enough to wholly believe in them.

So that's that plan scuppered.

[Sighs] Well, unless this is yet another layer of distancing - delivered by a "brain" from which he has already disassociated himself, can the intentions behind any of these words be trusted either?

Hmm, the brain as unreliable narrator - now there's a metaphor! He'd probably be quite proud of that, if he'd thought of it...

But I digress. It's about time I committed him to these blog changes: I can't keep him awake forever, and he's not weasling out of them again.

So, the changes:

- Not 4'33" shall be revived. Some time within the next fortnight. Exact details still to be decided upon.

- This blog shall, at least once a month, provide some kind of update on the progress of its writer's writing career. The intention being that if progress reports are expected of him, he will be forced to have some progress to report. Exact details to be decided, but will probably include: a rough idea of the kind of jobs done; remuneration; hours worked; practicalities of working freelance; the usual tiresome whinging. It is hoped that such information might prove useful to someone; though the cathartic whinging, probably only to him.

- Across both blogs, there shall be a combined total of at least three new posts a week. Perhaps to include the odd review of things and/or stuff. Probably both: there's a lot more space to fill...

- Only heavy workload/computery difficulties/illnesses-other-than-colds shall be an excuse for lapses from the above. So, another reason to hope for a heavier workload...

- The author will now interject in such a way as to irrevocably collapse this stupid distancing thing.



I said: "The author will now interject in such a way as to irrevocably collapse that stupid distancing thing"!


Hmm?

Oh. You've finished.


[Sighs] Fine:

I'll do all that stuff.


God, postmodern affectations can get you in to some awful messes...