Here I stand, poised at the base node of an infinite decision tree. The future, as it stands, is currently uncertain, by most schools of thought. There is a perpetual haze cast over what awaits just around the corner. What is revealed when the haze clears is determined by my decisions on the tree, along with those of countless trillions of people, animals, insects, and bacterium, not counting any potential extraterrestrial life that chooses to interact with our civilization (which of course they’ve been doing for hundreds, if not thousands of years, it’s just that their language has been misinterpreted by scientists as something called “static,” with the far-fetched hypothesis that it is residue of the universe’s creation).
Yes, the future will be decided by an infinite amount of decisions on an infinitely variable tree. My first decision on this tree, and that which is most relevant to practically anybody who should read this, is to register for a blog. Not a nice blog, mind you. I’m not spending a penny to host this, so far, which is one decision that I think will contribute to the non-inclusion of the “have drawn-out discussion about morality and the value of a dollar with parents, whose credit card I have made illegitimate use of to purchase online property of questionable value,” node of my future tree.
Upon embarking on this particular path, thereby collapsing an infinity of possible quantum realities (I sure am using that “i” word a lot, aren’t I?), the second major split in the tree involves choosing a name. This name will have far-reaching consequences, I realize. A boring name, like the standard “Karmuno’s Blog,” broadcasts nothing save for the fact that my name is Karmuno, which in and of itself is a falsity. On the other hand, an overly pretentious or exciting name like, for example, “The Bedrock of Sisyphus,” displays not only a fundamental misunderstanding of Greek mythology, but the implication that the author will, in some way, have some things to say about the myth, about mythology in general, about mindless toil, about the human condition, about geology, or some combination of the above, which I most certainly do not (and I if I do I am most certainly not conscious of it). In pondering this decision, I momentarily went over my list of potential band names. I quickly came to the realization that “Baunzhaüs,” “The Time-Traveling Neanderthals” and “Anal Byproduct” were all terrible names for blogs (with the possible exception of “Anal Byproduct”). So instead I turned to my other musical source of inspiration, potential album titles. Specifically, the title of my first EP which I am hellbent on one day writing, recording, and releasing to universal praise by everybody (redundantly enough). That album is “…duck, duck, DIE!!!”
It is at this point worth noting that my first EP will not actually be entitled “…duck, duck, DIE!!!”, although there is a distinct possibility that I will one day release a “…duck, duck, LIVE!!!” LP, chronicling a three-day tenure in some dingy club where I first made it big. Keep in mind that I do have a title for my first EP, and you may even find out what it is some day (a few already know).
So now, with the vast sea of infinities (there it is again!) boiled down to slightly fewer infinities (though nowhere near the scale of the reduction of, say, aleph-two to aleph-one), I proceed. Instead of a sea, I surf the Internet. Instead of a board, I ride my words, my wit, and the seventeen dollars in my pocket. Instead of eloquent, concise, pointed thought or critique, I bombard the reader with incomprehensible, 1 o’clock am-written, bloated, pretentious, unfocused drivel. If you have bothered to read this far, welcome to paradise. You haven’t heard the last of me.
Unless of course I completely abandon the blog after this post, or if you are revisiting this post after my insanely popular articles on the values of various dishwasher detergents comes to a sad, tear-filled end, or I suppose if you simply go on to another site and never visit this page again, as I suppose the vast majority of my readers will. Or if you die. So it goes.