The Crushing Inevitablity That Comes from a Self Imposed Exile

"The Doorman asks, 'Then, sir, I must respectfully ask you: why don't you go take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut? Why don't you take a flying fuck at the moooooooon?'"

But seriously, folks: Why the FLYING FUCK does one feel the need to blog about anything in particular? Someone anyone please answer and tell me why? Whatever the case may be, I feel it. I feel the inescapable, all-encompassing, ever-pressing weight of The Future descending down upon us like so many vultures circling above over head, waiting. Waiting. It's all anyone can do when face with inevitably. Wait and prepare.

A note on preparation:

There are some things in life that no amount of preparation can surmount. This for instance. Cancer, an addiction to crack cocaine, interventions, peak oil, apartment fires,encountering a never-nude, The sledgehammer of commercialism on the delicate glass of the future of the American intellect...the list goes ever on. There is though, a stark difference though between that which cannot be prepared for and the things that remain vague abstractions because a person chooses to turn a blind eye to that which is crashing towards them at break-neck speeds. I can tell you though from first hand, though more exciting (or at least a lot more comfortable), this is inadvisable.

That being said, the future of one's digital role in the coming decades is something that a person should at very least stop to consider, and for the over-cautions make an adequate attempt at preparing for. That is the purpose for this blog, in a sense anyway.

For official use only:

Purpose: To create a digital Identity, Join the conversation of 21st century digital democracy, and totally ruin any hopes of having an air of legitimacy or professionalism when any future employers look back and label me, my blog, my future, and my lifestyle "reckless, fiendish, vulgar, drug-addled, perverse, self-involved, senseless, direction-less and ultimately worthless on the most visceral level"

What's worse than the draw of this god forsaken idea that I need to record a deprecated life filled with little more than menial tasks meant to pass what little time I have left in Orlando is this: For weeks I have had this blog set-set up with the good intentions of writing at least something. Slowly, and on many more than a handful of occasions, I have sat staring at a blank blog interface I though about how I have no credentials, experience, or previous knowledge on any subject what-so-ever. I'd rather not step up on a soap-box and rail against Hilary Clinton and her diabolical connections with the Wal-mart and big business. Or profess my clearly superior cut and-paste indie-hipster musical tastes. I've sat and thought about these things that I don't want to turn myself and this small corner of the internet into and it very quickly turned into a rushing deluge of healthy indifference. It's this indifference that has kept DITK empty. Though recently as the vestiges of my tenure here in The City Beautiful have begun to fade away, and the volume knob on the white-noise-chaos machine that has become my life is slowly but surely reaching closer to 0,
I can finally smell it. As the last pages of this chapter of my life are written it's come clear to me the things I do have:

• A plane ticket, and a quickly approaching departure date for a job in a foreign country.
• A penchant for the Non Sequitur
• A digital Camera
• A voracious appetite for all things "experience enhancing"

Also, I want a place to publish my terrible short stories. They do no good slowly corrupting on my hard drive that is never cleaned or de-fragmented. Also, they are not terrible, but they aren't very numerous. In order to motivate myself to write more and for my creations to grow: I need an audience. Feedback is the key to growth, I guess.

That, to me at least sounds like a good recipe for a blog that is at the very least, readable. If you don't agree with me: Go Fuck yourself.