Blog retrospective, 2015: guilty of breach of blog

Photo credit: orangesparrow via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury -- and LGTB members of the jury, I don't mean to overlook you -- the author of this blog has been posting to it for a little over three years. During that time he has published 129 posts.

Objection! Referring to yourself in the third person. You are the author of this blog. So you should say "I" not "he."

Overruled! Prosecutor, please continue.

Objection! Conflict of interest. You are both prosecutor and judge.

Overruled! I'm also the defendant. And the defense counsel. And most of the readership. Prosecutor, please continue.

Thank you, your honor. The author of this blog has also written 52 unpublished drafts. What is a draft? It is an abandoned post. A stillborn idea. Well, not stillborn. If it were stillborn it would be born, wouldn't it? But it would be still, as in probably dead. Clearly a draft represents a post that was conceived. And following conception, after a reasonable period of gestation it should be born, that is, if posting a draft is the metaphorical equivalent of giving birth.

Objection! Extended, hyperbolic metaphor.

Sustained. Prosecutor, keep the hyperbole under control.

Yes, your honor. Your honor, ladies and gentlemen and LGTB members of the jury: scattered among the posts are statements that clearly indicate the author's intention to write posts that he has never even started to write. In evidence I offer this post which lists 70 ideas for other posts. You will notice that the few that were written were written before the date of this post. This is evidence breach of blog.

Objection! There's no such crime as breach of blog.

Your honor, there is. I just made it up.

Objection! New offenses cannot be invented in the middle of a post.

Your honor, they can if one is the author of the blog.

Objection! Now you are judge, prosecutor and defendant.

Overruled. Kindly get to the fucking point.

Yes, your honor, I hope you will direct the jury to a verdict of akrasia in the first degree.

I see. Defendant, how long have you spent writing this particular post.

I started it yesterday. I'm not sure how long I've spent on it.

Make a guess.

I guess two hours.

Really?

Yes.

Really? Two fucking hours of your life on this?

Yes.

I see. I am directing a verdict of guilty. I sentence you to post this, and to follow up with a post tomorrow that includes a plan for doing better next year.

But your honor, I can't post it, yet. It's a piece of shit. It needs editing.

It is a piece of shit and one that you've spent, by your own admission two hours producing. You will post it! That's hardly punishment enough for writing it, but it will do for now.

Yes, your honor.

I am now going to bang my gavel, and you are going to post it.

Yes, your honor.

And don't spend the next hour looking for a sound clip of a banging gavel to add to this post.

No, your honor.

You were thinking of it, weren't you.

Yes, your honor.

Well don't. Just write "Bang!" and post this.

Yes, your honor.

And don't go back and edit it again, like you just did. I was watching.

Yes, your honor.

For fuck's sake, don't edit it again. Just fucking write "Bang!"

Yes, your honor. Can I add an image.

Yes. And then write "Bang!" But first backdate it to yesterday.

Yes, your honor.

Bang.