2004-09-20 - 8:16 p.m.
Internet, it's been too long. Entries have been lamentably thin on the ground these past several days -- er, weeks. Months....? Um, seasons.Good lord have I left it an awfully long time. I post like a man who has no website. I post like an e-mute. I post like a man whose keyboard does not work. I post like some people feed their pets, if their pets are Very Long Dead Indeed. Nonpostem.
I mean, really. June 12th? That's the date of my last post here? Some of you may recall that that was the day I quit smoking. And some of you may also recall me a few days ago mentioning that I'd hit three months off the Daily Coffin Nail Ritual. By a transitive property of time-reckoning, that means it's been Three Goddamn Months since e-pen met e-page round here.
Amusingly, my June 12th entry was a brief and needlessly apologetic message about how long it had been to that point since I'd posted. A website in which no content is ever actually posted, and whose pages are instead devoted strictly to quarterly apologies for lack of content, rather too closely resembes the Zen Bureaucracy of corporate America. Like those experiments in identity fabrication in which pranksters have "enrolled" in universities using the entire range of fake identification and, thanks to the magic of the paper trail, "created" a whole new person out of thin air, I have "maintained a website" these past several months, "posting" things from time to time, offering "observations." Really, I can prove it. The site has an URL, and a driver's license, and a student number. Really.
Anyway, apologies for long absences will be conspicuous in their absence today. There are two good reasons for this: 1) all of what I just finished saying about zen bureaucracy and fake university students and Robert Anton Wilson and the Rosicrucians* and whatnot; and 2) because there's no audience to apologize to anyway, the last of the Mirabile Visu readers who was still faithfully visiting to look for updates having given up entirely on this foolish enterprise many weeks ago and, inconsolable, taken to gibbering and weeping in the corner of his drab, neglected apartment. All that remains to witness this irruption of noisome, unwelcome web-jangle are a few unswept dustbunnies visible below, beneath the ornate bunting. And I'm not going to apologize to dustbunnies. (Not, that is, until dustbunnies apologize first. Fuckers.)
* Robert Anton Wilson and Rosicrucians sold separately.
