Let's talk for a minute about the Worldwide Web-- and more specifically the exit of "Blogger Sites" on this information highway. I certainly enjoy blogging-- it is
therapeutic in a way. I even enjoy reading other people's blogs (sometimes). I would imagine anyone reading this could say they find themselves in the same boat. Now I'm going to tell you something, and it may apply to you and it may not, but... I HATE THE MUSIC ON YOUR BLOG. There I said it. It's not that you have bad taste in music (though many of you do). It just doesn't mesh with my music-- literally doesn't mesh. See when I'm on my computer my
iTunes is open and playing, and when I visit your blog you blast me with your Michael Bubble and what not-- and while you may feel that everyone should enjoy Mr. Bubble's music the fact is they don't especially when he tries to drown out the music they (your blogs readers) like to listen to. To help you understand what I'm talking about I've just created a little
allegory. I call it the
allegory of The Fearful Flea Marketeer. (I'm just making this up as I go, so bear with me).
At a flea market, the Marketeer walks the path between the booths, each displaying their own unique assortment of goods. The Marketeer is not on a quest for anything particular, simply browsing the vast selection of items at the market. Upon entering one vendors booth a
yappy little dog darts out from under on of the tables and begins to bite the Marketeer. A swift kick later, the M
arketeer is looking over the contents of the booth. A few booth later, the Marketeer enters a booth filled with old books only to be quickly overwhelmed by the smell of old lady
perfume. The smell certainly unpleasant, doesn't detour the Marketeer from
perusing the books. A few hours later, the Marketeer enters a booth filled with beautiful paintings. Upon enter the booth a pair of proselyting Jehovah's Witnesses begin spoutting their ideology for the Marketeer. The Marketeer promptly exits the booth. At the conclusion of the day the Marketeer dies and goes to the great big market in the sky, where he finds no dogs, overwhelming odors, or Jehovah's Witnesses
*. The end.
I don't know-- Did that work?
*I, by no means, intent to imply that Jehovah's Witness will not be present at the great big market in the sky or any other similar post-earthy realm of existence. I'm sure there will be at least 144,000 of them there. :)