Plot Holes and Revelations

Still nothing on the bookstore. Not sure if I’m going back to the place soon. Is it some sort of requirement for all unassuming users of sufficient anonymity on Blogspot to have dark powers peeking around the corner? Fucking hell.

Tripped on some bushes onto a speeding SUV near the school on the other day. It was broad daylight. Nobody batted an eyelid. Thought I saw a dark shape in the bushes, but my mind was sort of occupied with something else. A realisation, to be precise. One which no doubt will exert grave implications a long way into the future, far beyond my worries of today, of loneliness, despair, and otherworldly threats looming over humanity.

I am bored.

Seriously though, I have precisely zero human being on the surface of Jesus/Allah/Yahweh/Buddha/Shiva/Dawkins’s green Earth to which I may rant and babble for hours and hours in private to. There’s E. and the other initial person and the handful of nice people who have left comments (with the exception being the bloke who was happy to see bloggers falling easily; surprise, we’re not). But in retrospect, nicknaming IRL associates after an elderly seaman portrayed by Sean Connery might not have been the best of decisions, with or without the interference of a certain shadowy old man or whatever it is. On that note, the Blind Man is supposed to be associated with books and libraries, if I’m not mistaken? Perhaps an innocuous bookstore would present an ideal base of operation for a certain number of underlings? Will try to discuss the state of matters with my family later; I find the complete lack of Fear-related social services to be quite disappointing considering all the lengths of time they’re supposed to have spent doing Feary things.

As the lack of gruesome deaths is no doubt getting on the readers’ nerves, here is the picture of a puffin to compensate.

The subject of books also brings to mind required reading for students. On one hand, millions and millions of required texts are laid across the world’s libraries and educational facilities, any of which would require scarce effort to present all manners of nastiness: Operator Symbols, Twin Triangles, disease agents, arthropod larvae, antimony dust, maybe some particularly lethal variants of the common mousetrap here and there. On the other hand, with all due consideration to the inherent threat which the very idea of the Fears presents to our perpetually vulnerable world, it appears appalling that the simplest form of information on such an essential subject has been quite completely absent from the aforementioned texts. Ladies and gentlemen, the point I initially attempted to present was most decidedly NOT that we are fucked on both hands, but seeing my complete inability from going on lengthy tangents and the truth of the conclusion, let us go with that one.

Anyway, I vaguely remember doing an analysis/study guide on an obscure poem on the subject of a nineteenth century amnesiac a few months ago. Have I ever mentioned being a distinguished English student? Ergo the entirety of the blog lacking the slightest semblance of comprehensibility. Wonder if that would alter the chances of an elderly, visually-impaired librarian going after someone.

Moving on to yet another point which I originally intended to discuss here – namely the peculiarities surrounding the recent input. I am aware of maybe two or three newspapers which may present such news items in such a manner, which is to include the formatting, and I have so far been unable to find further information on the supposed article. In addition, we may take note of the apparent difference in font sizes between the columns, as well as the “anonymous” source of the image and the general irregularities found within the presentation. But then again, we live in a strange world, stranger than so many of us would prefer to accept. A towering figure in a business suit, a feral form clawing through those deep in sleep, a mother of snakes behind the mirror, all of these we have come to accept as our very own reality. Perhaps, once in a long, dark while, a newspaper clipping is merely warning us all of the truth? Who knows.