This has been brought about by a confluence of factors including an excess of workee, but it's mainly attributable to a surfeit of ennui - I nearly wrote ennuee then just to make a funny, but realised at the last moment it wasn't - and the old decrepiblogitude thing.
However while doing a little browsing just then amongst some of my regular reads, I ran across a description of this very condition so accurate, so powerful, that I thought I should share it with you.
If I believed what I read just on British blogs, I'd genuinely believe that the country was simultaneously powerless before a ravening horde of scimitar-wielding foreign invaders and seconds away from marching all minorities into death camps. I'd believe that democracy itself - an electorate voting in favour of public services and the necessary taxation to cover them - is a psychotic tyranny akin to Nazi Germany. I'd never set foot over my door for fear that I'd be instantly raped in the face by a gang of feral crackheads.
Some readers might point to intelligent, well-written blogs run by reasonable individuals, but frankly, pish and tush. British blogs run at roughly 5% sober budget analysis to 95% face-raping crackheads.
Never mind blogs as a primary news source, I'm struggling to think of a handful of bloggers who would merit even the fabled fifteen minutes of fame. That's particularly ironic, since the vast majority of them certainly deserve chemical castration, and that's being charitable.
Then go and read a few of his pieces. You will like the imagery, you may well agree with his opinions.
I'm big on opinions right now because, while returning from Brizvegas last week, I bought my self some classic airport reading for the 50 minute flight: On Liberty. Having wanted to read it for some time, so as to get to one of the foundation documents that inform so much of the pseudo-academic wankery that passes for internet conversation/argument/culture war. And then say, "I've read it."
It is, of course, pretty much unreadable. Consisting mainly of words that one would use in day to day speech, and the base subject matter - the extent to which the state should restrict individual liberty - being a fairly simple concept, you'd expect to whizz through it. Not so. Recalling Monty Pythons' take on how to act in King Lear - namely that you not only have to have the right number of words but also speak them in the right order - J. S. Mill manages to confuse the order of nearly every one of his many, many words.
I'm about to pretty much give up because, like the children in George Bush's America, I are not learning.