the yule on the hill
Get up. Get on the good foot. Unwrap it, wind it up and watch it go.
For those who still frequent the bleachers, however sporadically, you may have noticed there has been a cull on dead links. Moreover, siblings & reprobates has seen a scythe run through it in a bid to weed out those sites which have not been updated in more than one year.
Fonts sadly run dry.
Given my own very prolonged absence, this was an exercise I was somewhat reluctant to undertake; as I remarked elsewhere, I find it depressing that so many fellow siblings seem to have tired or simply bowed out. The motherfucker - and I quote Beer here - is in the passing. Should you happen to fall into said category, the world is a mildly duller place, I think, without your continued commitment. You know who I mean.
If I have been a tad too gung ho - and let me confess that I annihilated a host of distant relatives without a second thought - please accept my apologies. If I have inadvertently deleted any site which remains active, let me know by way of comment or email and I will gladly reinstate it.
A proportion of sites which have fallen silent, I suspect, may have found more vocal presence on Facebook or Twitter. Well. Since I participate on the former only rarely, the latter not at all, chances are your footprints there have gone undetected.
But Martha, the dead man’s sister, protested, “Lord, he has been dead for four days. The smell will be terrible.”
John 11: 39
And the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound in graveclothes, his face wrapped in a headcloth.
John 11: 44
Get up. Get on the good foot. Unwrap it, wind it up and watch it go.
4 comments:
somehow the mainspring has not broken yet & so this rough beast, my hour come round at last,
slouches towards Bethlehem.
io Saturnalia!
I have yet to sweep my link list clean. each time I approach, I feel like a sociopath murdering friends & so I leave the long dead as well as the recently departed.
io Saturnalia!
Just like real life, there are far more blogs in the graveyard than there are out of it. Natural that in our Gothic Age. For some their electronic creation (monster) was but a short breath in the wind, for others their creation becomes an inseparable part of their lives, for others it was but a stepping stone other forms of expression and yet more such forms not yet invented.
Tumblr. For a little while more, at least.
Sociopathic, yes. It certainly feels that way.
Instantly, I regret having raised the sickle. Obliterating threads like an arachnid on Methamphetamine.
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