Excuse my self indulgence, but in order to truly understand the contents of the pleasingly acronymed N.I.B.T.A.E.A.E.I.T.B.A.E you must grasp that I am afflicted by the condition of having a tidy and idealistic mind without possessing the faculties to see these principles realised practically. 

During my honours year at University for example I was determined to devise a system which would keep me from thumbing through the tens of pages of notes which would eventually, over the courses of weeks, result in the painful and prolonged conception of an essay. My classmates, even my own wife, seemed to be able to operate a caesarean in regards to their own pieces and get roughly the same marks for a full two weeks less labour, but I digress.

I came up with the idea of creating a system whereby I would number each set of notes, highlight according to reoccurring themes, and chart this on a separate sheet of paper which listed the note series’ number and gave a brief synopsis of the salient points. This was a hilariously stupid system which spent some hours to create, more to fathom and keep to, and in the end only resulted in the same thumbing through tens of pages of notes, plus a few more. The only real difference was that my notes were now coloured in one of three ways, with numbers ringed at the top of each corner, and so maybe could have been utilised in a sort of illegible academic game a bit like Snap or Go fish (maybe these are the same thing).

In conclusion, a worthy idea, aesthetically beautiful even and borne out of the idea of doing something well, but utterly, utterly pointless when exposed to the unyielding face of practicality. 

A simpler example might be my exploits at Fifa 06 in my tenure with the lads during University. Football is indeed a beautiful game (unless you support Sunderland Athletic Football Club, in which case it has to take on a level of faith which would make the biggest millenialist blush) and I was determined to play it out that in way in its most pure manifestation. My shape (4-4-3) was a thing of beauty. It would hold resolute in its own half then turn and flow brilliantly, lyrically, philosophically, and after teasing defenders here and there for about two thirds of the half a goal would be scored.

Then my opponent would knock a through ball in from the restart and score. Whereas I had sought to use all eleven of my players as cells of the total total footballing organism, he scored with two.

It’s probably fair to say that I’d win maybe sixty percent of the time, a majority. Having said that I left the game as feeling If I’d be trying to wage war on geometry itself, such was my desire to find exciting and artful means of putting the ball in the net, and probably could have scored about eight goals had I gone with the easier through ball method.

Again, slavish dedication to principles and grandeur that are for the most part redundant in the face of easier and achievable common sense. 

The reason for the exposition of these little foibles is to explain why I’ve not blogged for a few weeks. After hearing of literally two people who were clamouring for a new post I thought I’d do this for the fans, but I’ve been reticent to add anything really because of the aforementioned mentality.  

 Blogs can be great things, such as the fine example here, stimulating debate, pointing us towards things of interest and utilising the resources of the internet in a way which is genuinely useful. It was with such ideals in mind that I decided to give it a go but in making my first post about POSTMODERNISM, that oh so easy subject, I’ve not so much shot myself in the foot as shot myself in the face.

As above the idea has been worthy of a sainthood, but the execution positively purgatorial in its un-thought-through-ness. Given that most of the people who will read this will see me on a weekly basis anyway I would probably have been just as well ranting at them in person rather than have this cumbersome but wittily titled space taunting me with how poorly my ideas have been conveyed. 

That said in exorcising my demons in this here post I feel able to continue. Although acutely aware of the self referential and atomised nature that is inbuilt in most blogs I will try to continue and discuss topics such as how I understand living in the postmodern world, why history is important, and other noble ideals already doomed to be realised tragically; but live, and right here!

Hopefully some of the kernels of wisdom and enlightenment that seem so evident in my mind will somehow shine through rather than manifest themselves as usual with all the power of a wheezing balloon.

Prologue

April 17, 2009

I’ve decided to start a blog, borne of my desire to understand living in the post-modern world. I’m acutely aware of how pointlessly intellectual that sentence sounds, and I daresay if I did a few pompous restaurant reviews which escape the mentioning of food entirely these two components would suffice to get me a job as a critic for the Guardian. Not quite those two, however. The previous knowingly self-deprecating sentence would also be requisite.

This is just a quick post to establish why I be blogging. I was initially intending to expound some more on my conceited first sentence, but I’ll do it properly some time soon, that way I won’t feel constrained by the need to feel breezy because it’s only my first post.

Primarily I just want a place and a challenge for me to record and form my thoughts, because the post-modern engine driving this world makes me confused to the point where I have to write things down to understand what I think about said things because in such a world, to qoute one Princiapal Seymour Skinner “Noone is beter than anyone else and everybody is the best at everything”. Blogging seems the natural medium for my my words, and I hope you will feel free to chip in when’ere and make me think about how clever/bad/flimsy (it will be mostly clever) my musings are.

There will also be links, because I like reading other people’s blogs and clicking on words in a sentence and going places, its chic.