It has come to my attention that that likely ladder of ours — cast your eyes south-east and scroll — is a matter of some contention, particularly in regards to justification and rank. One in particularly has wondered, aloud, about it, and my prompted reasoning was as far from adequate as such things can be. But, with the benefit of chewing time, I think I can explain, if not entirely justify, the process. Contrary to popular opinion, I do not slave over a hot oven, pen in hand, muttering to myself, and decide who has enhanced popular culture the most, then carefully delineate the remainders until I have an accurate assessment of the individuals' fingers. No — in actual reality (combine the two if you must), the process is far more superficial. Thus:
The easiest way to ascend is simply to be one of those rare creatures who actually devotes portions of their day — or week, as the case may be — to adding chunks of useless text to their page. Heck, at this point I'd take month — even year. If that fails (as it currently is), I am forced to resort to what I bravely refer to as Nostalgia. Hence the most notable intertextual relationship with the here and now is represented at the top of the pile, which in this case fulfils the previous criteria as well. The immediately following is more nostalgia-wallowing — a scant amount, to be sure, but its creation is synonymous with mine, so I'm due. Actually, if this logic had legs, Phan Phan Phan would be higher. Nevertheless, I'm 'ere to talk of the current Copper (fuck you, posterity), whose interrogation spawned this. His efforts show care, and the most recent shows cum. If it weren't for nigglings of the yes-but-I-doubt-he'll-update-again and compared-to-the-others-he-has-barely-written-anything ilk, maybe he'd be top dwag.
Whichever way you look, this ladder is a rare insight into what it means to be human. And what, you ask, does that mean? It means breath, it means lungs, it means Why The F— Am I Here? But most of all it means washing your clothes and using the toilet.
Duck, Duck, Cockatiel
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The move is officially complete, though I'm still living with a few islands
of stuff—the main one located in what agents like to call the "meals area".
Rea...
7 years ago
4 comments:
Given that none of the people on that list are ever going to write again, is it perhaps time to rank them by quality, throw a rug over them and try to avoid questions when guests mention the strange decor?
It has long been that time, but only recently has it bore a slight resemblance to that system. Still, selfish nostalgia's better than my old criteria. It's why Tim finds himself so low at the moment. He has only had one brief burst and hasn't since bothered. In the scheme of things, this puts him far below Tom.
I'm not yet ready to suffer the minefield of judging solely by quality, just on the off-chance someone on the list who isn't you visits. Luckily for you, your position's pretty much sealed regardless of which criteria I use — quantity, quality or nostalgia.
In the end, it's done its job if I get a few posts out of it every once in a while.
Amazing what coherence can do for your status.
I wouldn't know.
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