Monday, June 21, 2004

The A-Team

During the 1920s and 1930s, some of the greatest literary minds of the era gathered at the Algonquin Hotel in New York. The gathering, dubbed the Algonquin Round Table, set the literary standard for a decade.

I’m nowhere near New York. Ever. I’m stuck in an office in W1, burning my retinas on artificial light, and searing my lungs on air conditioning. But, shit, I’m online, so I can be anywhere I damn well please with the right urls at my disposal.

I’ve got my own Round Table, y’see, in the big bad world of blogging. Now, all bullshitting aside, most blogs are really fucking diabolical. I don’t care what Frank in New Jersey had for lunch, and I couldn’t give less of a shit what Julie in Croydon thinks of last night’s television. Fuck them all for wasting bandwidth on trivia and minutiae of interest to absolutely no-one. We have all this technology at our disposal, and we fill it with nonsense.

Well, not all of us. Cast your eyes over to the right hand column of this page. You see those links? Heroes all. Articulate screams in the darkness, over-caffeinated pleas for sanity in a world hell-bent on twisting our minds into balloon animals, whilst hacking away at our souls with stupidity, small-mindedness and office stationery.

IsThisNormal? chronicles the epic quest of one man’s attempt to survive in a house full of media whores, tight-wads and buffoons, without the added incentive of round-the-clock live video streaming or a 70 grand prize fund. Sit slack-jawed at the ridiculous ends other people go to to dump a load on your day, every day. Feel free to give generously to the “Buy Coupland an automatic weapon” fund, so we can help him fulfil his dreams of a quiet life.

more pricks than kicks used to be the most devastating and venomous attack on office life ever. Becket made Ricky Gervais look like an ineffectual pussy with a sense-of-humour bypass, with words that could make you bleed. But then it all got fucked up when word spread to all the wrong places. Now it’s a repository of ideas, poetry and primal screams, and if you are really, really lucky, you might still find the odd lost grenade sitting there, just waiting to cripple the right offenders. You know who you are.

Bonnie_Blue is the home of day-to-day anecdotal horror stories, from the dangers of online gaming, to the curse of being a freak magnet. A blog not unlike the humble Stray Bullets. Except it’s funnier. And sharper. And there’s more estrogen.

Go and read. Learn something. Feel ashamed at the way you hobble our minds. As for me, I just hit those blogs for shits and giggles, ‘cos I know their pain. But more importantly, because I recognise their talent, and every time they succeed, it pushes me harder to do the same. I am honoured to call them friends and peers. They are horrified that they even met me. I think I’m getting the better end of this deal.

And if all of this seems overly self-aggrandising and self-mythologising, well, you may have a point. But I’ll never concede it. Fuck off and start your own blog.

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