Picture of a judge's wigThe Judge RANTS!Picture of a judge's wig



Date: 13/02/19

"Hi there! Nice To Be With You. Happy You Could Stick Around"

How ya doin'?

Oh, nothing really. As I've remarked before, the things which are going on in our world nowadays are so impervious to serious analysis that even making the attempt seems to be merely adding another bucket of typhus-infected water to an already poisoned well.

I just don't have the inclination anymore to spend a couple of hours at a stretch outlining a coherent - or even incoherent - description of what feel like the advance events of a secular End Times. For one thing, it isn't going to make a ha'porth of difference to the outcome if I did; and, secondly, just like I've long suspected that Jamaicans deliberately change their patois whenever they suspect that Whitey has caught up with it, some existential Loki would come right along immediately and change everything so that what I had just written would make as much sense as a palimpsest in a manuscript of mediaeval theology.

All the above is, of course, a long-winded way of saying that I can't be arsed right now. Indeed, I've started seriously to wonder whether this site - like all semi-living things - has reached somewhere near its natural term.

Should this turn out to be the case, let it not become a cause for weeping in the street; I can remember blogs which appeared to be certain to go on forever - Septicisle, Mr. Eugenides, Heresy Corner and Chicken Yoghurt to name but four - which have nonetheless all vanished into the Wayback Machine without the Universe closing in on itself as a result.

Philip Challinor is still going though, and long may he continue.

Still, I suppose some sort of effort has to be made, if only to rescue Philip from having to tweet links to stuff I posted over nine years ago.

So, what to do? And how? Well, Jeffrey St. Clair, the editor of Counterpunch, has a regular column entitled Roaming Charges, in which he covers a lot of ground in a sequence of short paragraphs. Some of them dovetail together, some of them don't. It might be worth a try at emulating him just to get all this stuff out of the house. So...

Well, m'dears, I've run out of things to tell you for now. I may return, possibly to mark the start of Year Zero at the end of next month. Mind how you go...