Guide to BlogsAreStupid
Version 1.1
***WARNING***
The following page contains well in excess of the normal 100-word blogdec limit, and has been declared
a verbal slide-zone whereupon dangers prowl that some weighty paragraph or other may, without warning
(except this one), crash down and bury the reader in unresolved rhetoricisms and ramblissitudes.
Critical analysis rollbars will not protect you.
Who is JC Strider?
The above Randianesque wall scratchery, now third most prevalent non sequitur graffito after
"Kilroy was here" (ask your parents) and "for a good time call", leads us to query this
man's story. Below is a biodec presented on the website www.intellectualelite.com
JC Strider: A Legend in His Own Mind
Often hackneyed and obscure, riddling his prose and so-called poetry with cheap puns,
completely made-up words, or word combinations based upon sounds rather than meanings,
and putting subjects in the middle of meandering sentences, JC Strider shuffles his thin
deck of marginally-understood but effetely-rare language elements into tangles of linguistic
confusion to dangle the carrot of meaning at the end of the stick of (abstract noun) to lead
the donkey of (concrete noun) down the (adjective) road of (abstract noun). His “hook” is to
have all his entries exactly 100 words, or “blogdecs”, and finding peril and pointlessness
in the phenomenon of “blogs”.
The above, a poster-dec for the Gumpian "stupid is as stupid does" verisimilitude does little to
grout the tiles of confusion that surround this mythic figure. Joshua Charles Wyndham Strider entered the
world in a-far past, and will coil-shuffle off to Buffalo roaming on his cell in the time a-comin'.
He began posting to this here site in March of 2005, in a groggy attempt to put a fresh coat of meaning
on the dreary wreck that is the Internet, and specifically the so-called "blogosphere". All his entries
are written in "vanilla" HTML (HyperText Markup Language) as a reaction to glossy blog software that
"puts a petunia on the pig" that is a blog site. "If the words alone can't carry me", he has once said, banging his
shoe on a desk, "let the words then bury me." He has claimed, at times, to channel-surf poets and writers from
the past and the future. (N.B., to keep to his 100-word limit, he has had to "stretch" his Hemingway
and pare down the Dickens.)
Eschewing labels categorically, he stays downwind and circles his prey. Preferring to sedate with subtlety,
he would rather gargle with rusty razor blades than have rantology propped with scatology or blasphemy. "Better
that the 'sphere gurge leaden whispers than a murder of crow-brioche", he was once known to say, his metaphors
locking intercuspatiously.
In August and September of 2005, JC decided to attempt to tackle head-on (but not helmet-on) the "reason for
being" (English for "raison d'etre") of his site, and actually "talk to the (subject at) hand" of blogs being, well,
stupid (days 23 through 28). Although the term "stupid" seems to have a ready reception as "worthless" or
"unintelligent", his attempt to leap into the breeches of the cultural event horizon to define "stupid" as "eligible
for thoughtful criticism" was met with the cold gray dawn of the numbing void (the "spiral of downless down" of
which he speaks on Day 1). His "messages in bloggles" drift down currents of future passages, to maelstroms of
nothingness.
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