For the Spartans, actual war was a holiday compared to their brutal training–Plutarch
This is not a blog about war, or the Greeks, or picnics in the Laconian countryside. (Though such common tropes are bound to crop up.) It is a blog about the Absurd–the sweet, intoxicating, death-defying Absurd. Secondary themes will be the Wondrous, Ghastly, and Sublime. Tertiary themes might veer into the Psychotic, Perplexing, and Mundane.
What, pray tell, qualifies me to write such a blog? Well, I have interesting/absurd friends. Friends who have almost been crushed by helicopters in Antarctica, who carry firewood when they jog, who study at seminary. I have one friend without a toilet who pees on the same hay bale every day. It’s called a pee bale. So maybe if this blog is dull you should blame my friends. By that I mean, blame yourself, dear reader. If this blog is dull, look first at your own life and ask if you may not have a part to play in that dullness.
But I also read interesting/absurd things. Terribly, terribly, painfully interesting. I am going to share that pain with you. But it will be the good kind of pain, which is called pleasure. Phoenician seaports, bullet ants, French cinema, herbal tinctures, funny things about the American Civil War, are all likely topics.
I picture this blog as a monologue of sorts. A soliloquy. Well, it will be a monologue when I am addressing you, the reader, directly. Other times I won’t acknowledge your presence at all, and that will be a soliloquy. But only if it’s spoken. All of my blog entries are meant to be read out loud actually, performed on stage. If it doesn’t work on paper, it’s not my fault.