Friday, January 21, 2005
Who Would Cry For Me? Argentina?
The always compelling Majikthise, whom I had the good taste to link to even before James Wolcott did, mourns the "death" of Giblets, and I confess I'm almost persuaded to "shed" a "tear"...
If not for the fact that Giblets and his comrades at Fafblog! (Fafnir and the Medium Lobster) actually murdered me several months ago, in a vengeful rage because I had revealed their secret identity/identities!
And who mourned me, then? No one (ignore the comments, if there were any Haloscan ate them), that's who.
My ghost inside this machine continued to blog for a little while, but then eventually it had to move on to mundane ghost things like slimings, saying "boo", and avoiding total protonic reversals. This blog is now maintained by a clone, properly called RETARDO 2.0, and I bet you couldn't even tell the difference, huh?
So what was I, RETARDO 2.0, doing in the meantime? Well, resting and reconnoitering, hibernating, showing around a very yummy visitor to Amerika, reading, eating too much and drinking too little, dealing with college bureaucracy, and shopping for books.
But now "I" am here again. "I" always come back.
While I was gone, General Glut and Rodger A. Payne dropped me from their blogrolls, while Seb dropped me along with his whole template in becoming, briefly, Sadly, Nude (but he had a great rack! [inside joke]).
Only digamma was concerned enough to look for me; in vain, alas. What he did find, however, would scare* the bejesus out of everyone but a few teenage nerds and a rare group of batshit adults whose social ineptitude and delusions of grandeur inspire a bystander to a strange mix of feelings vacillating from pity to species-shame revulsion.
* I mean scare in the same sense as discovering that your old school had been renamed Lieutenant Worf High -- i.e., the disgust in knowing that some loser had devoted a huge amount of effort to memorialise such a pathetic creation.
The always compelling Majikthise, whom I had the good taste to link to even before James Wolcott did, mourns the "death" of Giblets, and I confess I'm almost persuaded to "shed" a "tear"...
If not for the fact that Giblets and his comrades at Fafblog! (Fafnir and the Medium Lobster) actually murdered me several months ago, in a vengeful rage because I had revealed their secret identity/identities!
And who mourned me, then? No one (ignore the comments, if there were any Haloscan ate them), that's who.
My ghost inside this machine continued to blog for a little while, but then eventually it had to move on to mundane ghost things like slimings, saying "boo", and avoiding total protonic reversals. This blog is now maintained by a clone, properly called RETARDO 2.0, and I bet you couldn't even tell the difference, huh?
So what was I, RETARDO 2.0, doing in the meantime? Well, resting and reconnoitering, hibernating, showing around a very yummy visitor to Amerika, reading, eating too much and drinking too little, dealing with college bureaucracy, and shopping for books.
But now "I" am here again. "I" always come back.
While I was gone, General Glut and Rodger A. Payne dropped me from their blogrolls, while Seb dropped me along with his whole template in becoming, briefly, Sadly, Nude (but he had a great rack! [inside joke]).
Only digamma was concerned enough to look for me; in vain, alas. What he did find, however, would scare* the bejesus out of everyone but a few teenage nerds and a rare group of batshit adults whose social ineptitude and delusions of grandeur inspire a bystander to a strange mix of feelings vacillating from pity to species-shame revulsion.
* I mean scare in the same sense as discovering that your old school had been renamed Lieutenant Worf High -- i.e., the disgust in knowing that some loser had devoted a huge amount of effort to memorialise such a pathetic creation.
<< Home