Mounting the rostrum

[waits for applause to die down]

‘And so begins another foray into the blogoshpere. You always want to start with some strong, purposeful statement fully outlining all the potential that you envisage for your endeavor. This is what Tim and I attempted in a previous foray into this kind of thing, and as you can see below we definitely need some help.’

An Invitation

Somewhere deep in my overcrowded psyche is a very distinct urge to create something. It is this urge that drives me (and most likely everyone else) to prance somewhat pathetically into the public arena and, without any further ado, pour out my overflowing, imperfect heart. Perhaps it was this same urge that caused Leonardo daVinci or Claude Monet to first place their stuttering stokes on canvas, or caused Plato to take whatever it was he took to that huge stone tablet and begin work on his Republic. Perhaps it is the same urge that caused the Mesolithic Man to paint on the walls of his cave crying out in the darkness of his ancient world that he should not die unremembered.

Whatever it may be, here at last is the cave wall I’ve been seeking, the tight white canvas stretching off to the horizon, the virgin stone tablet awaiting my manly chisel. So I invite you, let us cast off these mortal chains and give in to that thrilling baying in our blood; that desire to leave our mark and sleep the peaceful sleep of one who has, at last, created.

Tim

BTW RSVP ASAP

Just so that right from the start people who may or may not read this get a fair representation of the motivations for embarking on this (sure to be) mythical adventure I will use this, my first ever blog post, to outline my hopes and dreams for this precocial child.

While my companion in this adventure is prancing forth into cyberpace trying to catch up with the overflow of his creative heart and mop up some of that goodness, I am a little more timid remembering the last time that I entered the public arena I ended up with about 100 litres of gunge down my neck. Even bearing that in mind; the excitement now, with endless blank pages to be imprinted with genius, brings to mind a lover stretched out before one waiting in anticipation.

Of course one has to wonder if the cave man had spent all his time recording his environment for posterity then there wouldn't have been much time for hunting and subsistence evolutionising.

Tom

‘Which, probably makes it introduction time for those who have accepted the call to greatness. First up we have Mr. Daniel Skinner who will take some time out every now and again from trying to get someone or other elected. I would like to promise few ideological barbs but one doesn’t remove their teeth before sitting down to a buffet. I see looking around that Dr. Clarke is late, but that it to be expected of one so weighed down with talent. And last but not least if you would kindly turn and affix your attention to the back right corner you will find the mysterious Jessip Fitzgerald who, I am reliably informed, quit his job to be a part of this, also perhaps explaining the disheveled appearance and drunkenness.’

‘I think that’s everyone, and as I have nothing further to say at this juncture I will leave you all in peace. Unless you have anything to add of course.’