Ra Second Time I got Arrested Again!
Wednesday 22:14 p.m.
This is the 601st post! I'd been trying to tell myself that I should stop because this blog has served its purpose. Brian Wilson told me about blogs and said I should set one up when I put my books onto the webpage, which is the worst writer's webpage I've ever seen. It's a Mike Tyson, no bells and whistles, webpage. (You do not understand that reference, well, who cares? This was never about you. It was always about moi!) Anyway, I put up the webpage when I stopped working full time in the jobbie because I thought it might help attract a literary agent. And, amazingly enough, it did. Took a while but it helped. So now I can't blog about literary agents anymore and anything about business because my literary agent has advised me not to do so. As it would not help.
I've had two pints of the wheat beer home brew. Hmmm? A serious brew.
The objections I have to writing a blog are mainly to do with the fact that I don't do it as a writing task. I sometimes come here when I've sobered up and edit the most appalling mistakes, but it's not writing for me, though I appreciate that other people try a bit harder than I do. And have cameras. And know how to stick photies on their blogs.
So, I thought, at first that I should do this to keep track of the literary agents I was going to insult, etc., because I have no office skills, and I'm certainly not going to develope any. This blog has been useless for that.
All I did was sent off random emails to folk on Everyone Who Is Anyone in Publishing, etc., the webpage.
The wonderful thing about getting a literary agent was that this was one less thing I had to think about. As soon as this man of great taste and perspicacity appeared, I could concentrate again on ra bliss. Because I might be able to give up the half of the jobbie I have left at some point, and take to the meditations in a more serious manner. And I don't like trying to convince.
"Those who justify themselves do not convince." Lao-Tzu. The Wall.
The literary agent won't sell any of the books, of course. They might not be any good. The new book might be quite an interesting go at a book, but I don't expect it'll get published now.
The great thing I've liked about blogging is other peoples' blogs. Because you're in the game, you think you can look! I must say I have been much amused by other people's blogs and the whole blogosphere.
My auld maw sent me £10 in a letter today. She has started giving me £10 as I leave her house for the last year or so. The last time I was there she fell asleep as we were listening to the Dharmapada, so she sent the ten pounds in the post. I don't need the £10. I had only 20 pence to do me for the next week, but I don't need the £10 because I've got plastic. The auld maw gives.
Now that I've got an agent and no money, what I have to do is set myself for the six week holiday I can have from the end of June. I have to go to the hut in the allotment and stay there.
Truly fortunate creatures can collect the Four Blisses. Extremely fortunate creatures can go breathless at will. But you don't get it by being a sweetie eater. Sometimes you may have to endure.
So for the next month I have to really try to get myself into a non-clinging position where I can go and sit quietly doing nothing in the hut. And I think that will happen. I don't want to sit and cry, at least, not too often. I just want to be able to sit.
I had hoped when the bloggy started to conjoin with a lot of other joes and josephines who were doing ra bliss, but that was a mistake. This is a minority interest. I have always tried to consider myself as average, the norm. Though millions of joes and josephines have gone down the path before me, we are truly as rare as the stars in daytime. Flatheids to the left of us, flatheids to the right of us. Flatheids everywhere. What did I do wrong to end up surrounded by zillions of flatheids?
What are you going to get from all this, Hotboy? I'm going to get it all, Jack. I just have to stay alive long enough. Don't expect anything as the joe said. Just keep on practising.
This is the 601st post! I'd been trying to tell myself that I should stop because this blog has served its purpose. Brian Wilson told me about blogs and said I should set one up when I put my books onto the webpage, which is the worst writer's webpage I've ever seen. It's a Mike Tyson, no bells and whistles, webpage. (You do not understand that reference, well, who cares? This was never about you. It was always about moi!) Anyway, I put up the webpage when I stopped working full time in the jobbie because I thought it might help attract a literary agent. And, amazingly enough, it did. Took a while but it helped. So now I can't blog about literary agents anymore and anything about business because my literary agent has advised me not to do so. As it would not help.
I've had two pints of the wheat beer home brew. Hmmm? A serious brew.
The objections I have to writing a blog are mainly to do with the fact that I don't do it as a writing task. I sometimes come here when I've sobered up and edit the most appalling mistakes, but it's not writing for me, though I appreciate that other people try a bit harder than I do. And have cameras. And know how to stick photies on their blogs.
So, I thought, at first that I should do this to keep track of the literary agents I was going to insult, etc., because I have no office skills, and I'm certainly not going to develope any. This blog has been useless for that.
All I did was sent off random emails to folk on Everyone Who Is Anyone in Publishing, etc., the webpage.
The wonderful thing about getting a literary agent was that this was one less thing I had to think about. As soon as this man of great taste and perspicacity appeared, I could concentrate again on ra bliss. Because I might be able to give up the half of the jobbie I have left at some point, and take to the meditations in a more serious manner. And I don't like trying to convince.
"Those who justify themselves do not convince." Lao-Tzu. The Wall.
The literary agent won't sell any of the books, of course. They might not be any good. The new book might be quite an interesting go at a book, but I don't expect it'll get published now.
The great thing I've liked about blogging is other peoples' blogs. Because you're in the game, you think you can look! I must say I have been much amused by other people's blogs and the whole blogosphere.
My auld maw sent me £10 in a letter today. She has started giving me £10 as I leave her house for the last year or so. The last time I was there she fell asleep as we were listening to the Dharmapada, so she sent the ten pounds in the post. I don't need the £10. I had only 20 pence to do me for the next week, but I don't need the £10 because I've got plastic. The auld maw gives.
Now that I've got an agent and no money, what I have to do is set myself for the six week holiday I can have from the end of June. I have to go to the hut in the allotment and stay there.
Truly fortunate creatures can collect the Four Blisses. Extremely fortunate creatures can go breathless at will. But you don't get it by being a sweetie eater. Sometimes you may have to endure.
So for the next month I have to really try to get myself into a non-clinging position where I can go and sit quietly doing nothing in the hut. And I think that will happen. I don't want to sit and cry, at least, not too often. I just want to be able to sit.
I had hoped when the bloggy started to conjoin with a lot of other joes and josephines who were doing ra bliss, but that was a mistake. This is a minority interest. I have always tried to consider myself as average, the norm. Though millions of joes and josephines have gone down the path before me, we are truly as rare as the stars in daytime. Flatheids to the left of us, flatheids to the right of us. Flatheids everywhere. What did I do wrong to end up surrounded by zillions of flatheids?
What are you going to get from all this, Hotboy? I'm going to get it all, Jack. I just have to stay alive long enough. Don't expect anything as the joe said. Just keep on practising.
posted by Hotboy at 10:14 PM
6 Comments:
Some of us would miss your flippant ravings should you pack in the blog for higher, more serious things.
Now to return to the point lost soon after your title, your public demands the narratives of the arrests. Was one when you axe-murdered your next-door allotmenteer and composted his corpse to feed the onion sets?
Ion: Thanks for the encouragement, and I will blog about my run ins with the forces of law and order sometimes because I was innocent, your honour! More innocent than Dreyfus, since it's you, Ion! And the first instance did involve an axe! How did you know? Hotboy
Who you calling a try-hard?
The Tyson reference makes sense to people who've watched him box (from behind the settee in my case).
This should help. Apparently the big thing in publishing now is blooks. Blogs that have been transferred to print. One good thing about thissblog is its consistency. They say that's important in a blook. That's probably why I haven't been discovered - too multi-faceted.
You never mentioned the criminal record. I can't afford to let anyone with form bump off the aunt! I hereby publicly renounce all contracts. Any freelance action would of course be looked on favourably.
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