It is Confusion

Those of you that did not fully comprehend my last post, fear not. Only one person in the world was able to understand 90% of that, and it was Kameron. However, despite the mixed metaphors, the wandering tangents, and the questionable immaterial subject matter, the post still got 25 hits in 22 hours. That's more than 1 hit per hour, for those of you that don't do math. That's second only to five other posts in number of hits in a 22 hour period.

This got me thinking. If I can post things of the utmost importance couched in language that is circular, tangential, and incoherent to the vast majority of the world, why not post things like that all the time? I'm not saying I will constantly talk about the plight of the little couch. What I am saying is that I can see an outlet for creative expression and philosophical meanderings (also known as fiction).

If for some unknowable reason 25 people (in all actuality, probably 20, I might have looked at my blog a couple of times to check on certain things) are willing to read something as inconsequential as what I say about nothing, then why not use that base as an actual creative foundation. And by creative foundation, I entirely mean a way to bounce ideas and literary attempts off the minds, hearts, and livers of those around me. And if you think that writing fiction doesn't involve the liver, you obviously never met Dylan Thomas, Ernest Hemmingway, or William Faulkner.

If any of you would like to go down the rabbit hole and receive an explanation of the previous labyrinthine post, by all means, if you think you're bold enough to handle it, then I am bold enough to explain.

Philosophy Bakes No Bread will henceforth and for the foreseeable future become a workshop for my writing endeavors. Criticism is not only accepted, but encouraged. I read an article in the NY Times today about children self-publishing their books. I think that this trend is ultimately bad for young writers. If you don't struggle to publish, then you don't really learn how to handle criticism and rejection. Tear me apart, and I will forever be in your debt. Or at least for a couple of hours. If it doesn't work out, I will present my writings elsewhere. If it does, so be it.

Until a project is ready, I bid you all adieu.

Godspeed.

Sir Matthew R. Fife, 1st Knight

P.S. If you giggled a little bit at the title of this post, you are Kameron. Or an Old Testament scholar. Either way, my hat is tipped in thy direction.