And it's Goodnight from Ben.





As Mrs Clibrig said to me on the first night of our honeymoon:our honeymoon: "That didn't last very long, did it!" 

I've just re-read some of the 150-odd posts I've published. 
What a load of self-indulgent crap!
I've finally accepted the fact that the stuff I write is of absolutely no interest to anybody but me.
Why would anybody be prepared to follow the experiences and opinions of yet another poor bastard who is experiencing the travails of life in the Age of Trump?


So I'm pulling the plug.

This is not an act of petulance, but an acknowledgement that I am competing for attention with a very large number of other deluded losers who also apparently think, when everybody else on the planet is doing their level best just to get by, that their views on life could actually be of interest to anybody at all.

I am mortified by my assumption that I could add anything to the sum of human knowledge, or express anything that hasn't been expressed by wiser minds countless times before.
I am profoundly embarrassed.

My decision to scuttle off into the undergrowth and hide has been partly precipitated by the cringe of self-recognition that I experience when I read some other deluded chancer's attempt at literary expression in a blog. I mean, who really gives a flying fuck what they, or by extension, I, think about the state of the planet or about life on it?

And, in any case, publishing one's opinions is analogous with lying on one's back with one's genitals exposed, and nobody enjoys the threat of being kicked in the nads.

But mainly, my decision is prompted by reading the works of art that are Jim Crace's novels. 

Like having sex with Sharon Stone, I should imagine, nothing else will ever be good enough again.



So that's it from me. I'm outa here.

I shall lay my trite little essays to rest in the dark recesses of my computer, where they can moulder away quietly and unnoticed.


Bye from Ben.








P.S. 
If you have accidentally encountered the mouldering corpse of my erstwhile blog, I apologise and thank you for your interest.
May the foreskin be with you.






Comments

Herajasa said…
You're killing me, you know.
Ben Clibrig said…
It's only my pathetic attempt at blame shifting. I would be perfectly happy to continue to write stuff for my one reader, but it's getting awfully bloody quiet in the mist. My morning after reflections now only occur in the mirror, and it's not a pretty sight. I have run out of words.
But that doesn't mean that I don't look forward to reading the Adventures of H.
Herajasa said…
I'm going to assume you're looking for new photos.

The one above is a lovely one, by the way.