The Death of Patriotism, part deux.

Ground rules have to be established. The rule is simple - NO NAMES. Not yours, not mine. Call it fear or call it caution. I like the freedom the anonymity (or the illusion of it) gives me and you. I know who you are, you know who I am. The world doesn't need to.

If I think up any more rules, I'll make sure to put them up. Gee, I like being king of my own little cyber world.... I could get used to this. :)

And I'm doing this because?

This is not meant to be my platform. It is not meant to provoke thought, to invite debate, to enlighten, enrage or ensnare.
It isn't meant to solicit advertising, to gain notoriety, to achieve fame or to make an impression.
It is only meant to be a retreat, a solace and a sanctuary.
I am in love with the written word. The written word has given me everything I have. It puts the food on my table, the clothes on my back and the fuel in my tank.
It inspires me, moves me, motivates me and humbles me.
Yet, in the humdrum movements of daily life, I have fallen out of love with the simple beauty and power of words.
I want to find that lost love again. I want to remember again what it was like to be awed by the ability to build and shape something that lingers in the mind. To gain immortality with the knowledge that somewhere in the deep a part of me will survive.
Read, if you will, whatever I scribble here. It may be a rant, it may be a boast. It may be me gushing in happiness or wallowing in my misery. I may curse politicians and their bluster. I may laugh at footballers and their indignities. I may wax lyrical about the latest movie. I may philisophize about the meaning of life and the existence of God.
But be warned. There are no promises that it will enrich your life and improve your moment. There are no assurances of quality and good craft. This is only me continuing my love affair with the written word.