The Beginning...or is this The End?

I feel like writing something down before the Apocalypse. Yes, that sounds either very morbid or fanatical, but I mean it to be neither. I have just come to the conclusion, at this point in my life (i.e. my late twenties), that I am NOT going to write the "Next Great Novel". Somehow, someway, I let things like "earning money" and "cleaning the house" get in the way of my precious dream. Therefore, when the bombs drop and the dust settles, I will have nothing recorded for posterity, nothing for the kiddies to read, the students to study, or the new philosophers to pour over with puzzled expressions and exclamations of "Well, when you put it that way, it all just seems to make sense...".

Having watched the news substantially over the past year and a half, I am convinced that I am going to turn on CNN one day (the biggest offender of editorial journalism to date...oh, and Fox News can go to hell too), and see three of the four Horsemen asking a cameraman for directions to find their lost buddy in Iraq, because they have some business to take care of. I just figured that I haven't contributed anything of consequence to the world to this point, no children (although that may be a blessing...I am of course obligated to produce extremely ill-behaved art history majors), no miracle of science breakthrough, not even a world record for balancing things.

This has caused me to re-evaluate my contribution to society. The only thing I can give would have been that "Next Great Novel", but this blog will have to suffice until I get funded by an extremely wealthy but elderly gentleman with a cough. I guess I could work on the balancing things...I'll keep you posted. Regardless, welcome to my contribution to society, as it is. (Oh, and I'm also a little cynical...I didn't think you'd notice, so I had to point that out.)