My New Year's resolution was to avoid procrastination, and I am finally implementing it this very week. Or maybe next week. Definitely by October at the latest.
Right. I'm spinning my wheels here. So let's consult the Blogger's Checklist for topics that I might have neglected this week.
Whining about traffic. Check.
More whining about traffic. Check.
Incoherent rambling about things I don't know about. Check.
Pathos-choked plea for donations. Check.
Bad Cat Poetry. Check.
Discourses Upon The Nature Of Bloggery . . .
----
Oh. Yikes.
I just got a hit from Terry Teachout, the heavyweight U.S. (I think he's British, originally) arts critic.
This is what I meant in an earlier post when I warned against being caught figuratively picking your nose or clipping your toenails when company comes to call.
True, usually it's Jehovah Witnesses or Amway salesmen, but sometimes it's the voluptuous divorceé next door, with a martini in one hand and the other wandering in your pants.
Ooo-la-la! You, you -- ick! -- you don't get out much, do you?
As I wandered through this familiar reverie, I was thinking, hell, let's shut this puppy down and go looking for dirty pictures. I understand that there might be some on this Internet thing I've been hearing so much about.
But no, I am disciplined (Mmm -- discipline!) enough to ignore these baser impulses and get back on topic.
Which was . . . yeah, Terry Teachout.
I reexamined the front page of my blog with a lot of trepidation, through the eyes of a very busy, very smart, very influential person and I think I came up short.
Nothing really offensive or really badly written, but nothing really outstanding, either.
If you offer your thoughts to the public and you want to be taken seriously, then just imagine that Terry Teachout's reading over your shoulder and adjust your efforts accordingly.
Discourses Upon the Nature Of Bloggery?
. . . check!