Welcome to my humble abode, mortal! Mind the detritus.
It is here that I weave my ramblings, amongst the discarded of your society's baubles -
for it can only be thought, that great thought and greater thinking have been relegated
to the dustbin, thus I think I ought reside with them, in the trash, where you already
seek to place me.
Indeed in my time it was thought that high thought was Man's duty, and we neglected to
deal with anything else, since it was assumed that crops would grow and cows would moo
if only justice, right, and high-mindedness were kept by the best of men, and indeed, it
was so thoroughly proven to be otherwise that we were slack-jawed and despondent for
an aeon. Sorry we're late.
Well, what a stink you've all kicked up in that time. The world's gone to pot, the pot isn't
legal, the water's got plastic in it and the woods are on fire. Did anyone happen to save
the dodo? No? Damn. We hoped we might teach it to fly one day.
Usually I talk to my friends The Rubbish and my pet dog, Pericuriousalivates, who is un-
fortunately made of stone at the moment. The Rubbish is more talkative, especially when
someone throws me a new friend. But now I feel like I want to talk to everyone else, as I
once did long ago, in the forum, when it was common for mad bastards like me to take pot
shots at cocky twats and cut them down several pegs with impunity.