Edged To Division

No longer will I be subjecting you, if you indeed exist, to top ten/eleven album variations every time my mind decides to change — not here, at any rate. In other words, I'm splitting my atoms, leaving my Eves untouched, by dedicating this mess before you to things on the fuction side of the fence, and devoting an entirely new page —now titled Think Hollow — to my flights of not entirely lying: badly researched essays and the like. Rather than write the ones I'm supposed to, with narrow frames in which to work, and horrendously closed off and utterly uninthralling matters of subject no herman being in their right mind would enjoy writing or invest any effort in beyond what seems to be required, I am going to employ most of my admittedly less than super pen-handling skills writing junk that actually interests me, and has no socio-something-or-rather value whatsoever, but which satisfies the highly personal requirement of "I actually feel like writing this". It will, most likely, end up being mostly focused on the aural side of things, but it has no particular theme beyond its nonness in the face of fiction, so anything on anything could crop up and and at will. Wow. Could that well be the first instance of two "And"s side by side actually making sense? I'm going to put that in bold now.

Anyway, that's the cut and jibe of the matter. There's been an ugly essay-what-ist rearing to get out all along, and recent internal compositions along those lines have inspired this sudden unleashen, although maybe the tubular bell himself, often dubbed a ball of something or rather, might have had a hand in it, much as I don't want to admit it. But mostly it's because I have the constant urge to post slightly updated versions of those top ten/eleven things every ten seconds, and it kind of jars with the rest of this junk.

So there you go. I might even be at the new place more frequently.