This blog has crawled out of the primordial sludge as a mistake. An unfinished fetus of formless flesh and translucent tissue. Swimming upstream in the cultural soup, darting in and out of the viscous arteries and the primeval swamps of our modern consciousness, taking notes and baring all to my internal Melfi. Did I bring my log? No, I brought my blog. Christ, it IS like taking a shit. There's your log.
Continuing along with the Great Tradition of the monumental mistake, there will be regular additions to the blog (oddly, a genre Professor Frye neglected to mention in his Anatomy of Criticism). Regularity, of course, is a beatific gastrointestinal grace. Thank you, Dr. Kellogg.
You will find no poetry here, not even of the street. I ain't one for poetry, and I ain't one for prose, but I sure do get a kick out of that Beavis & Butthead show. Actually, I am prosaic to a painful point. Gentle Reader (both of you), will you learn anything? Not likely. Will you find edification? Absolutely not. Will you be bemused? Possibly. Will you be offended? I'll do my very best. But you will come back. The Power of Christ compels you. Do not hate me because I am a sinner.
Finally, I close my eruptive entry into the blogosphere by laying complete blame at the anointed feet of HP and SC. Balmed soles and all, it is your collective fault that this grievous mistake is being made. I promise not to blink before I blog. There will be no recollections in tranquility from this evolutionary error. As ever, your obedient servant, FEL.
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