When writing a blog you need a constant source of ideas and subjects to discuss, and at the moment I’m bone dry when it comes to things to cover. But the irony is I have a list of things I don’t want to write about.
The reasons range from being beheaded to being insulted and I’m not too keen on either of those situations. Call me a coward, but I’m allergic to the following blog subjects.
International terrorism and war
It’s a depressing subject, a fact of life, yes, but the mainstream media do a good enough job bringing us all the sordid details. But what worries me in particular is my ability to say what I think about these people and that can lead to all sorts of unpredictable outcomes. I have no ambition to be shot dead on a pavement in front of someone filming it on a smartphone. And I like my head where it is; on top of my neck, not balanced between my shoulder blades.
I’m all in favour of equality. Discrimination repulses me with its lazy lack of imagination and inability to engage in debate. But one slip of the tongue (and I’m getting close just using that expression) and the red flags are raised on Twitter and before you know it you’re the whipping boy for every geek-boy platoon – who think you’re a faggot for defending women’s rights – and riot grrl hit-squad – who think you’re a rapist for admiring a woman’s haircut. Unless you’re a verbal tight-rope walker or a deranged masochist (re Katie Hopkins, Richard Littlejohn, Jeremy Clarkson) you’ll never get away with saying anything.
Of equal danger to the above, except the lynch mob in this case is every hipster with a borrowed agenda and beady-eyed peer group keen to out those who aren’t quick enough to express their temporary outrage on social media. I’m not politically correct or incorrect; I am a fan of irony, but irony doesn’t travel, especially through the kind of thick bone found in a lot of gentrified skulls within the M25.
Technology and Gadgets
I could write about the latest iPhone, the latest smartwatch, the latest AI gizmo, folding television and non-hovering hoverboard. But I’d rather write about cricket and I hate cricket. Anyone who can get excited about a robot that still can’t serve a cup of tea without spilling half of it is not worth talking to. If you’re the kind of person who queues up outside an Apple store at midnight to buy a telephone . . . !
I never go anywhere.
I support Valencia football club, so I can’t write about sport.
All corruption, that’s all there is to say on the subject.
The planet is dying, so that’s pretty much that.
I’ve written about all the people worth writing about, including me.
Fashion and make-up tips
Pewdiepie always has this covered on Youtube. (I think, it might be someone else.)
Film and television
I’m just cynical about everything these days, although Dan Cruikshank’s programme about Warsaw was interesting.
In spite of all the above exceptions there are still millions of things to write about, so why can’t I think of anything? Perhaps I’m ill. I’m not getting any younger and I’ve eaten a lot of processed red meat in my lifetime. (Remember Selwyn Gummer feeding his daughter a hamburger? They were supposed to be the death of us.)
But I don’t think I’m suffering from variant CJD. I think it might be the moon or some other shift in cosmic alignments. 2014-2015 was the Era of the Blog and now I’m drifting into the Era of Something Else. I’ve felt a distinct urge to start making music again, so maybe it’s time to check out the Hoozik website, see if it’s still going, see if the site owner is still trying to get everyone to move from free membership to his premium rate service.
And lo, before I realise it I’ve written another blog post about nothing at all. By the way, did I ever tell you I was related to European royalty?