What is this shit? I've tried to answer that question once or twice. When Headfoot came into unholy being, there was a bit of a mini-pseudo-crisis, and at a certain point the thing became all of a sudden way more visual. Then there was a while there when I half-heartedly tried to split the thing into at least two separate blogs because of the whole "Fuck This Ad" thing (of which there's been nowhere near as much, lately, I think because I no longer spend a quarter of my life in the New York City subway system). I took a hiatus once (it was like a week and a half)...
But so honestly I don't really have a grasp on what this blog is. I guess it's a weird hodge-podge—a mulligan stew, if you will.* I know there are people who read it and seem to like it, but I don't have a clear sense of what about it is good (q.v.). I wonder whether anyone likes all of it or if people are really just wading through the stuff they don't like, waiting for the stuff they do. Maybe some people like my insane nonsensical musings about baloney like being an only child and some people like the sad gestures toward humor like the bad movie summaries and some people like when I weirdly complain about signs and bumper stickers or my cruel, nitpicking commentary on people who through no fault of their own don't speak English very well... I can't imagine anyone gets off too much on the shit like earlier today when I pick fights with religious people (i.e., everyone in the world).
Jesus Christ, I'm a monster.
It sounds like I'm being down on myself, maybe. I'm not. I'm the greatest human being who has ever lived, and a pure delight in every way. (At the risk of "oversharing," I can tell you that any woman between the ages of 18 and 40 who comes within a yard or so of me begins orgasming uncontrollably. It's actually sort of a problem.) So let's not make this about me. I'm talking about the blog, here.
The blog, the blog, this fucking blog.
One thing that I don't like about Alt85—I was kidding about the negativity earlier,† but this is something that really does bother me—is that I think part of the reason I'm as prolific as I am here (however prolific that may be) is this weird alternation or sometimes combination of (a) my not wanting the thing to just sit here, languish, and (b) my not being satisfied with the most recent entry, which of course is all that some people are going to see.‡ In other words, all too often I'm posting stuff on here not because I have something to say but because I feel I have to come up with something to say—or, even worse, to bury what came before.
On the other hand, of all the things I'm wanting (by which I mean lacking), something to say is not particularly high on the list.
Well, one thing's for sure, even if every other question goes unanswered: I may very well have just written the worst-ever Alt85 post right here. You and I were here together for it. It's sort of moving, almost. Like bowels.
* Harold Bloom used that expression, "mulligan stew," in his comments on a paper I wrote in college. (He did not like this paper.)
† Not kidding about the uncontrollable orgasms. You have been warned.
‡ Although last month someone found my blog by Google searching "sluts fucking at kindy," so I guess it doesn't matter that much what's on "top."