On Being Cut Dead in a Chat Room...

There are days when (and I kid you not) I feel like
Doctor Strangelove

I found myself mumbling "No Fighting in the War Room"
as I wandered off to dust down the
living room walls with fresh fragranced foam
which is usually used on car dashboards.
(It works, BTW, and leaves walls very fresh indeed.)

The wandering off was to get as far as possible from a somewhat humourous series of
outbursts on a chat room. People get restive
in Winter.
Cabin fever sets in.
They yell...

Having been, in the past, accused of being "very boring" by a poster from NZ (which is somehow an esoteric recursive oxymoron), I tried a bit harder to be
interesting over the past few months.

No dice.

It seems that another poster, closer to my blogging coalface, has been cutting me
dead for quite some time and has spent much energy avoiding reading posts that
I start. Another one has, with perception,
picked up on
the surrealism that some posts can display.

It is good to know these things. It makes one think.

That one is being virtually avoided by people whose existence is totally unknown to one
shows what a very odd "place" the Internet can be...


And, à propos of nothing in particular, there is a link in
the title bar to some very interesting thoughts on the
subject of feminism and domestic work.

In fact, the World is now a very lively place and I think
we have to thank electricity for that.