Yarr !! Here I be !?!

Welcome to the strangest thing in the blogosphere. Having watched the growth of social media from it's birth, blogging is on thing I swore I'd never do: well never say never. From it's murky beginnings self- publishing on the web seem like a fine idea. There are always a great many ideas which should be spoken aloud, but have no "market niche" to support them. Direct to reader paperless publishing seemed to offer a useful option to examine, refine, and debate all aspects of the human experience, from industrial ethics to interpersonal dynamics. (hell thems just the "i"s )

Unfortunately, as time writhed on the weblog became the domain of ,at best, turd-polishing half-wits who spun a regurgatant variation of government approved ideas; and at worst, the warcraftless world of brainless spuds whose originality was matched only by their gormless stupidity. In short, the ideas published ,(upon reflective examination)should have been spoken using the internal monologue only. (we got earf**ked via the web)

If you'followed along to this line, the question creeping into your mind is likely something thusly - "Why would this nameless, overly verbose arsehole create a blog, given all the nasty things he's had to say about blogs?"

Well the answer is a two-parter, firstly, the wild fires of stupidity raging through the internet seem to have burned low, not out mind you, just dimmed. At this point it seems that a great many people have developed a web based bullshit detector so as to avoid junk food grade blog content. It would seem that now, an idea with an internaly consistant logical frame work could be introduced, reviewed, revised, and perhaps implemented, with out being drowned in a vast river of sewerage. (god bless ann coulter's broken jaw)

Secondly, I want money. Notice that I didn't say "need". This difference is important. Most of my needs are met without cash. Through the course of a year I hunt, fish, garden, trade, scavenge, scrounge, repair, manufacture, or borrow most of the goods and material I need to flesh out my existance. While I have the skill sets to shed the acoutrema of the North American industrially supported lifestlye and vanish into the mountains, well I did that when I was younger; living that close to nature no longer holds my interest.

Actually, my interest has been lost in a great many things: In the course of four decades I've been a bodyguard, bouncer, dishwasher, cook, deckhand, prospector, roughneck, stage actor, screen extra, make-up assistant, hair salon manager, peer councelor, in-between/scenic writer, surveyor, pro-am drunk, martial arts instuctor, gigolo, gambler, framer, welder, telcom systems designer, hardware tech, expititer, ecetera, ad infinitium, ad nausem. ( hang in there, the journey is part of the destination)

My grandfather, who first taught me how hunt, fish, snare, and skin said to me " My legacy to you is your head and your hands, the only thing you will carry with you always and everywhere is your experience." So I go there, see that, do this, get bored, move on, repeat. A life less ordinary may not lend it self to community pillar security, but the stories will blow yer mind.