In fact I decided the post as a whole or something was mostly innappropriate for the webmag; I think I thought so even then, when I wrote it. The only argument in favor of keeping “Insomnia No. 1″ on this site was because everything’s still so experimental; the rules are kind of mushy.
This does not stand, however.
I need to set some kind of standard; in the least avoid allowing this turn into another random, faceless blog. (Yes, I see the irony of that in light of using a blogging site to host this mag.) I already have one of those.
And speaking of which, I’ve decided it’d be best for me to just move “Insomnia” over to that blog, at least until I have an adequate and satisfactory version to put here.
From that [10/25, 11:31pm] post, though, there were some semi-pertinent notes worth preserving:
“So finally managed to remember to talk to Mani about Vermy; things. Expect it sometime, I suppose, just no time soon if you’re prudent.
“Read that essay; damn funny; needs work. Mostly structural. It’s basic thesis though is one of few things today to have the honor of making me smile: You can’t know everything–so pretend to instead. Ah, know-it-all-ism. What class in that.
“I’m all but tagging these things randomly nowadays. All these recent posts, with the exception of last night’s, should really just be “Staff Notes” being as they are notes from the staff. But I feel that to be inadequate, yeh? Gotta have punch, verve–ooo, haven’t heard that word in far too long–mojo-magic.”
but since the ‘mag’ as you so casually refer to it is still in its prenatal stages (various little undifferentiated idea-cells are trying to decide what to do with their microscopic existences, to take the metaphor further than is really tasteful) don’t these blog-appropriate ideas represent the very formation of the magazine? Aren’t entries like insomnia numbe 1 (whatever THAT means) the thoughts that will one day birth the ideas that will one day grow up into the GONZOID MONTHLY?! isn’t that fucking important to you? It gestates in your skull and you are already amputating little fingers from its delicate fleshy boneless transparent fetal hand things. I can hear its cries of torment! I need to stop writing now lest I never stop.
Yes, but you see, it’s so ueseless, and irrelevent, and probably full, of unnecesary commas.
~P