The Present Time

First things first: I have found my dream job.

Now imagine you and I are playing a computer game together. This game involves diplomacy; perhaps like Civilization. Now let us imagine that I click on an action which lets me establish a diplomatic exchange between us. At the top of this dialogue is an area reserved for communicating to me what your general posture towards me is as a fully fledged diplomatic entity. If the words displayed here are akin to “magnanimous”, “benevolent” or perhaps even a non-violent form of ambivalence, you may just have the right type of sentiment to acquire one of these for someone as esteemed as myself. If you on the other hand were to attempt to query my mood in this game I can guarantee you that the word “strange” or some other synonym would greet your glittering eyes.

While I am here I might just quickly mention that I am considering updating my contract with you, my dear readers, to read something along the lines of:

Christopher will update this page every Sunday. This does not include Thursday. (This is a minimum figure and the oystaFarm cannot make any assurances that something won’t be posted at any point of time before this designated delivery date).

It is fair to say that I have been fairly ambitious with my agreed posting schedule as I have just discovered that I can use this newly discovered lode of pure, vacant time to clear out a massive back log of electronic entertainment I have acquired over the last few years; none of which comes from Fyshwick. One of my objectives in maintaining this web log was to give me the opportunity to flex my literary muscle which I have found, sadly, has atrophied over my recent five year university stint; computer science courses are not renowned for producing Hemmingways. Currently I have found that trying to make two posts a week has resulted in me posting commentaries which I feel have not been as well refined as I would have liked. I will just remind you now that I do have an insidious streak of perfectionism running through me — I suspect somewhere between my left shoulder and right nipple. This perfectionism is, naturally, measured against my own standards and not yours. This protects me from criticism quite well. In the end, if you don’t see a post here on Thursdays, do not be alarmed; I am in all likelihood enjoying a long overdue visit and delicious gorging in Nintendo-land — a very pleasant place indeed. Of course while I am in this fabled country I will be dreaming up all kinds of stuff to write about here on the Sunday. I apologise for any disappointment, including myself. This extra time may even allow me to replace this ghastly HTML template I have selected from Blogger; abuse of the table tag makes baby Jesus cry and there is nothing I enjoy more than looking at a good piece of prime, well-formed, semantic XHTML. Yum.

Now weren’t you going to get me something?