Two Hundredth Post
I have neglected this blog for far too long, and mostly out of anxiety over writing this, the 200th post. I knew it had to be good - no, not good - great, and the pressure was too much for me.
So, as usually happens, I have totally psyched myself out. And now I have no choice but to own up to the blogger's block and move past it. This is what this post will be, then. Not a great post at all. Just a place-marker.
So happy 200 posts to my blog. It's not easy to be 200-posts old. (Do you know what that is in dog years?) In the context of the internet and the so-called blogosphere, this blog has not been around very long. But I hope to keep it going until all of this blogging stuff becomes irrelevant and passe (that's pass-ay, in fact - I don't even know yet how to put accents in to this format). I hope you'll keep reading until I stop writing.
1 Comments:
on second reading of this post (necessitated by the absence of anything newer!), one finds it is Seinfeldian -- ostensibly about nothing, but really quite deep. the subject, of course, is striving for greatness. the conclusion seems to be that one strives too mightily, one may come up empty. Did Shakespeare strain? Did Rachmaninoff run himself ragged? If so, was that what got them to the heights of achievement, or was it some power over which they had no control??? Just asking, TBC
11:22 AM
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