13 March 2007

So whadaya think?

Prometheus is feeling particularly democratic today. He has been retrospecting. For those among us who have a car, that's like looking in the rearview mirror. For those that don't, get a rearview mirror and look in it as you walk backwards very slowly making 'vroom vroom' sounds. So retrospecting it is. He felt that he had been churning out entertaining (if watching nose hair grow is entertaining) posts. And he's never asked readers what they think of it (like it matters).

Inspired by a few of his blog friends (since he has no other kind of friends, he will henceforth not specifically address them as 'blog' friends), he thought it might be a good idea to ask all one and a half of his readers to tell him what they liked and what they didn't and which were his best posts and which were not so amazing and what they'd like to see next and what they wouldn't. He first began writing a disclaimer that said "any suggestions like but not limited to 'bin it', 'shut up', 'put a lid on' and related terms will result in a hex (courtesy: Lexa) that puts purple, pulsating, puss-filled boils on the rather embarassing parts of the anatomies of the suggestors". But since Lexa was rather busy (putting a pox on that Rowling woman for gross misrepresentation of facts, one suspects), he dropped the disclaimer and instead turned to his speech-writers for an inspiring speech to elicit proactivity and citizen-participation in the governance of this blog. And they came up with something about there being known knowns and unknown unknowns in the matter of the posts on this blog, before going on to say something about reading Prometheus' lips when he is supposed to ask what you can do for this blog. So far so good, but Prometheus began to worry about stretching it a bit too far when they wanted him to actually say on record that he cannot tell a lie. And they began to get wholly inaccurate when they said that this blog was actually started some four score and seven years ago by Prometheus' father.

Prometheus' belief that the only thing one can count on is an abacus was further cemented by the above incidents. Having given up on doing it himself, he decided to simply let it be and ask people to drop him a comment or an email (especially if the suggestion is not exactly fit for public consumption). You get the drift, don't you?

PS: Those speech-writing ghouls put another idea into the head of Prometheus. They went on about blogging of the people, by the people and for the people. That led Prometheus to think about getting someone else (like you) to write a few posts for him. Though not a brilliantly original idea, he thought it might appease the spirit of America that has been hurt by so many jobs being Bangalored by actually (put American city of choice)-ing his job of writing drivel.

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11 comments:

enidd said...

enidd thinks... blog more. more about there, even if it means you have to drink lots of caffeine and stay up all night.

Lizza said...

I love cats, but I don't want no puss-filled boils on any part of my anatomy.

Your best posts? I'll have to get back to you on that one. You know that I enjoy all your posts, but I'll let you know which ones tickled both my funny bone and my mind the most.

P.S. I think Prometheus' blog should be written by him and nobody else. :-)

Terra Shield said...

Terra concurs with enidd... prometheus should blog more.. As for best post... Terra needs to check back, browse through all the archives once again... soon, Terra hopes :D

Lexa Roséan said...

haha Prometheus. very funny. thanks for the mention and I'm catching up on my reading here now. will you be going back to Dubai? It's on my list of places to go. do you think I can find work there as a witch, astrologer, tango teacher?
blessings
Lexa

Prometheus said...

Welcome to The Moving (Middle) Finger Writes, enidd. Prometheus is always happy to meet another third-person person. Prometheus will write more, even if he ODs on caffeine. Hope to see you around more often.

Liz, Prometheus would be honored if you write for this blog. And we may just be able to do something about that hex, ya know.

Terra, Prometheus loves blogging. He will blog till there is life in him. Which is about 4 minutes from now. No, seriously, Prometheus will try to write as often as he can.

Lexa, Prometheus is in Dubai for now. He'd be happy to show you around if you visit while he's around. Tango teacher? Sure. But the religious values of this country might not appreciate Wicca.

D said...

I like most of them... I think there were one or two that I just skimmed through but I don't remember which ones they were... but most are fun to read!
And I think this blog won't be the same if you out-source it!!!

Radha said...

Hey, its so good to have you blogging again. I love all your posts. But there was one which I could read fully because I was laughing so much...i think it was the one about using correct grammar in blogs :)
it was hilarious.

Radha said...

hey one suggestion though....dont get into this democracy thing....pls continue writing the way u've been writing....writing for the masses could turn a good writer into a wimp.

So look thru the wind shield & not in the rear view mirror :)

Prometheus said...

Deezer gal, Prometheus has taken your point. We will not outsource.

Radha, Prometheus does a deep curtsey. That windshield comment was awesome! Respects.

Mimi Lenox said...

Besides the fact that the Queen does not take kindly to you curtseying and such to anyone else (jealousy flairs...see above comment to Deezer gal)she will forgive you this time since she missed you so terribly while you were adrift.

While I do enjoy your third-person humor and rantings, my favorite post of all-time from you (of course,what ELSE??!) is "Digging Tunnels With Plastic Spoons" but I might be a tad prejudice where that is concerned.

Sometimes I read it again when I need inspiration for Peace Globes. It always delivers.

Hands down, my friend, everytime.

Prometheus said...

Prometheus thanks the Queen for forgiveness. He knew she'd pick that one. He re-reads it too, when he feels the need to count to ten.