Capt SpaceBat

AKA “talking around the (burning?) bush” or “putting off as much as possible for longer than feasible until the original point has either been forgotten or so shrouded in waffle that even Whistler von Breville* would be hard pressed to extricate anything from the sticky agglomeration of words and whatnots” or “Getting to the point …”

… “Prevarication”, that’s the word that I was looking for; now that I have found it, what next?

The above is a snapshot of any moment in my head, typical of my life: waffle, avoidance and the aim for resigned acceptance of the fact that nothing I have done, do or could ever aspire to doing would ever amount to anything and therefore should not be entertained as a serious notion.

Occasionally though, I overcome this spiritual and intellectual inertia. Sometimes it takes the perceived threat of something far, far worse and scary than just failing; at others, it is just down to getting into a routine. Most of the routines are quite pointless and self-defeating, reaffirming the idea that all is worthless and valuing it thus - the Greeks had a word for it: floccinaucinihilipilification, or the art of cheating at Scrabble(r)

It has been one of those days today - having promised to sort out someone else’s website, shop, email system, payment gateway and the like, I have spent much of the past week finding my time filled with more “useful”, “important”, even “urgent” matters that precluded me going any further than the requirements spec I had drafted a week or more ago. Having worked out what needed doing, why and how, the prospect of actually doing it proved both too much and too little: it had already been done “in my head” and thus was perfect and the act of physical interaction and banging away at the keyboard for a couple of hours was both demeaning of my Platonic ideal and terrifying in case it proved that my abstracted rationalisation was not the apotheosis I had so fondly imagined.

Then, a thingy-storm brewed, steeped and poured - I had a blog entry to write this evening. If I couldn’t manage to sort out someone’s website, how was I to have the courage to continue my diurnal outpourings? Since I had proven to myself that after a week I had at least one reader, who had done me the great honour of commenting on yesterday’s entry- my first non-me blogroll entry, I realised that I did have an obligation to others, not just to trying to keep what I am pleased to call my mind in some sort of acceptable Solipsist equilibrium.

Hence 1066PictureGallery.com got its backup, makeover and general going-over with a big stick and the shop made to work properly. The front end will be put in place once approved by the owner.

Hallelujah! a day that would otherwise have been mostly wasted trying to work out what to write here was instead a productive one. Thanks, today.com for the provision of the site and to Chato for pointing me here in the first place.

Another day, another dollar.

*Whistler von Breville: the latest addition to the household

named after “A study in grey”, the lead singer of The Sisters of Mercy and a kitchen appliance capable of producing the toasted sandwich markings typifying the tabby cat (Felix Mackeralis)