Worm Sighing

Hello again. By popular request, there shall be renewed posting for the festive season. Also by popular request (erm, one chap), I shall attempt to inject a small amount of Dickensian Christmassyness into my otherwise strictly secular words. See if you can spot it.

 Why the dead period? Well, I’m up to my neck in dissertation right now. And even when I’m not internally debating the emergence or non-emergence of a school of counterfactualism in historical or historiographical thought, I’m a busy man. It’s not all travel and marsupials and sci-fi and perfectly pitched political or games commentary. Oh no.

But I’ve managed to clear myself a little breathing-space (lebensraum, perhaps? - secretly fascist ed) from the writing and the reading and the constant, constant financial horse-trading that goes hand-in-hand with any degree course in London. Not to mention doing a bit of preliminary Law research (for that, beloved followers of my every moment’s whim, is the direction to which my thoughts tend these days and, indeed, these sharp winter nights).

So what do I do with this hard-won break? Why, I read some other stuff, write some other stuff, and worry about how much money I can spend on Christmas presents. Of course.

So I’ll be writing a few bits and bobs on here over the next ten days. Perhaps a day-by-day Christmas journal?

There are a few things from various media that I’d like to review/comment upon as well. And I’d very much like to say something about politics here at the moment.

So that’s the menu. Unlike most restaurants, however, you (my precious little masticators of words) receive no assurance that the chef will actually deliver on anything he says he will.

Joy to the world, peace on Earth etc.

First off, let’s do some light administrative stuff (you like that, don’t you, my bean counting heterodoxes, my good-willed cherubs with upturned faces lit by the candle in my frost-encrusted window of new-media borne discourse?). 

By which I mean, I shall now address myself to the nine (nine! count them!) responses that have accumulated to the previous post on this blog - an ill-advised warble of a top-five-albums-list that is now hopelessly and forever out of date - in the eons since its writing. I shall write a few thoughts, and prefix each with a numerical bullet-point, each numeral being sequentially the next consecutive numeral from the last in the list of points represented herewith. With the exception of the first, which shall arrive, shall we say, with no precedent, save the emptiness which precedes it, which may, if you wish, serve as substitute or representation for zero (nought, nothing, invented mathematically by Muslim scholars in the 13th Century).

1. Do you think my sentence-structure has become more complex since I started looking at Law?

2. Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated (check me out with my literary references).

3. Yes, Steffe. Chistmas is coming. (Yes, Quigs. Like your momma). Does anyone else think that the marupials are the killers here? In a non-literal sense?

 I think that just about covers it. Check back frequently, happy, frost-bitten winterlings that you undoubtedly are.