A recent post solicited a comment from an old and good friend.
He suggested that my recent posts exhibited less rant and more comment and observation, or should that be observation and comment.
Anyway, perhaps he has a point.
Blogging seems to be acting upon me as a form of therapy. When I started I had thought that it may act as a kind of waste disposal unit, in which to empty all my frustration at the madness of the world.
This I figured, would make me a more relaxed and easy going individual. This would definitely be a good thing.
In reality however, the effect seems to have been even more profound than anticipated.
If even my blog posts are rant free, perhaps we have stumbled upon a treatment for a condition that seems to affect a large proportion of the over 40s.
Yes, I know it’s harder to imagine than a world without possessions or religion but …
A world without Clarkson, devoid of mindless ranting, everyone really having a nice day, oh my god it’s horrible.
Creeping Americanisation, so much positivity, huge helpings of going forward and not a trace of irony. It’s unbearably intolerably horrible.
Perhaps, after all, true perfection really does have to be imperfect.