Archive for March 9th, 2015

An apology for the recent hiatus

It has been a long time, hasn’t it? I can’t remember when this blog had so long a hiatus between one post and the next. And even this post can’t really count as a proper post. You may find it hard to credit, but usually, I do try to shape and structure my posts, polish the sentences, try to ensure each sentence and each point flows naturally and smoothly from the previous sentence or the previous point, and so on. But I am not bothering with any of that here. This is simply an unmediated flow of whatever proceeds from my heat-oppressed brain. A stream of consciousness, if you will.

I won’t compile a list of reasons for the hiatus. Oh, very well then, I will: pressure of work, pressures outside work, illness in the family, a lesser indisposition of my own, and so on. Not to mention, not even by way of paralipsis, an inclination towards indolence that is both native and cultivated. Let us not dwell on these: these are all but the everyday slings and arrows that affect us all, and I am not claiming any special victim status. But it has meant that what little time I have had to myself, I have been too exhausted to shape and structure my posts, polish my sentences, and all the rest of it. Maybe, I thought to myself, I am feeling my age: I started this blog two days after my fiftieth birthday, and, given that my blog celebrated (if that’s the word I’m looking for) its fifth anniversary a few weeks ago, mathematicians amongst you should be able to figure out just how close I now am to physical and mental decrepitude. Do I have the energy for any of this, I wonder? Do I have the discipline to focus my mind, when all I really want to do is to settle back in my armchair with a dram of whisky?

And it’s not just my blog-writing that has suffered. My reading has, too. I am currently re-reading The Idiot (those great bearded 19th century Russians I have to keep returning to), but the rusty old brain has been so uncooperative that progress has been painfully slow. And as for browsing through other blogs – I am shamefully behind on that. The whole point of having a network of literary blogs is that one reads each other’s blogs, comments on them, gets into discussions, and so on. In general, I am usually better at reading other people’s blogs than commenting on them, but of late, even my reading of these blogs has suffered. And how could I possibly expect others to visit my blog if I do not, at least once in a while, put down my whisky and visit theirs? I’m afraid I can only put forward advancing old age and mental exhaustion as mitigating factors.

It has made me wonder whether I really should be bothering with a blog at all if I do not have the time or energy to do it properly. No – not “time”: scrub that bit. For to say that I am too busy to have much time to spare for my blog is to imply that other bloggers are not so busy as I am, not so hard-working, or whatever; and that implication, as well as being insulting, is utter nonsense. I really don’t want to be like those irritating people who, when they see you reading, tell you that they too should “get round” to reading “these books”, and that they will, some day, when they have the time. I feel like telling them that it’s not the lack of time that’s the issue – that one makes time for the things one is passionate about: the problem is the lack of will. I don’t say these things, of course, as I have been brought up to be polite; but since I have not been brought up to shun all hypocrisy, I find myself thinking these things while I smile and nod away in agreement.

Well, that’s my excuses over. Do please give me till the end of this week, and then, hopefully, I’ll be returning to my usual blogging self.

I should now be thinking of a few closing sentence that will round off this post in a satisfactory manner, but, as they say, sod that for a game of soldiers!