"I'm useless. I can't raise pigs. I have no idea how to make sausages, forks, or cellphones. All these objects that I use or eat surround me, yet I don't understand how they're made. If industry came to a stop, if the engineers and the special technicians up and disappear, I couldn't do anything at all. Outside of the industrial-economical complex, I can't even assure my own survival: I don't know how to feed or clothe or shelter myself; my personal technical abilities are largely inferior to a Neanderthal's. Utterly reliant on society's structures, to it I'm pretty much useless; all that I know how to do is to make dubious, obsolete cultural commentaries." (Translation by yours truly of this post.)
That'd be me. And let's face it, I don't even do that no mo'. Sure I got things to say, but not to you. The homunculus does the job just fine. The fact is, I was never all that good at writing consistently, and there's enough useless bullshit in the cyberverse; no need for mine.
Everything will stay up until April or whenever it is that my subscription expires. I'll reactivate the photos so that people can steal them if they really want to.
Oh, and nothing against Typepad. They run a remarkable service for people who actually have something worth saying. I didn't, and it doesn't appear that most other people do, either. 'Twould be nice if we all had the honesty just to shut up, but capitalism, advertising, and the generally diminuitive size of the human spirit will likely prevent such a mass movement.
So here's your cannon fodder for the unheard of cause of silencing the prattle signing off.