It’s a blog-eat-blog world out there in cyberspace. The dedicated blogger must work hard to keep their profile alive. No new post for two hours? You are yesterday’s man. The gadflies of the net have moved on somewhere else. The real pros scarcely dare to go to the loo for fear of losing their audience.
Sleep? Not an option.
So imagine how I felt on disappearing to a part of Sweden with apalling internet access.
But I needn’t have worried. I returned to the Afterword to find that one of “my” threads had been one of the Most Commented in the past 30 Days. That considerate chap Mr Saucecraft had stepped into my shoes and produced a KFD classic. Not to be outdone, the talented Ms Breakfast produced an H.P. thread that was even more popular.
They may not have realised but this is known as “blog-sitting”. Like dog sitting but without walkies and the small plastic bags. There are, believe it or not, individuals who provide this service commercially to the stressed out blogger.
The Afterword is as cutting edge as ever. And what possibilities this could offer if we all took the chance to step into each other’s shoes now and then.
I’d happily sub for Mini. Nothing like a good car boot sale. Or Black Celebration. I fancy a few days in New Zealand listening to Depeche Mode. I’m not sure I have the stamina to be Locust for even a day. I’d have to get through two novels, a DVD box set and ten new albums. And then write about them.
A brave new blogging World.
Ianess writing as Rob C. Poppy as DuCool. Bingo as Beany.
Who would you like to see subbing for whom? Your suggestions please.
It’s not all good of course. I’ve a nasty feeling that H.P. was rather better at being KFD than I am. The YoutTube clips he posted of ambient welsh choirs and Bulgarian techno-bagpipes were far superior to anything I could find. And he started to shorten my nom-de-AW to the Kafkaesque (and far more edgy) K. I’m now feeling nervous about waking up one morning as a cockroach.
But just think! You could be Tigs for a day.
H.P. Saucecraft says
I was buying my eldest, Thorgismünd, a new pair of snow shoes the other day, and suddenly it struck me.
I hadn’t a clue what to post next at the Afterword.
Not a clue.
After a moment of panic – and a strengthening glass of Elksblood Wine at a local hostelry! – it dawned on me that I might not be alone in this amongst the fascinating polyglot collection of individuals known as “The Afterword”.
In short, that the feeling of not having a clue what to post at the blog may be a shared one, and bring us – at whatever distance around the globe – together in some way.
United in our clulessness!
So, Afterworders, let’s be having your songs about being at a complete loss to come up with an idea for a blog piece!
Here’s a favourite movie of mine which says it all so much better than I could!
And it’s over to you!
Kaisfatdad says
Here’s one of Thorgismund’s favourites, which sums up the feeling of angst you describe:
Bingo Little says
I would like to see Bargepole posting as Bargepole.
H.P. Saucecraft says
I’d like to see minibreakfast posting in the nude.
H.P. Saucecraft says
*I think I got away with it!*
attackdog says
Or perhaps not.
I have experienced deeply troubling, sometimes horrible visions since reading your response.
Know I need to know. The Afterword needs to know. Please be specific. Are we to envisage a Mr Saucecraft or a Ms Breakfast in the nude?
Please also remember when responding there may be children or otherwise still developing, guileless young adults viewing this site.
minibreakfast says
Both of us of course! We’re rarely apart! Here we are together on a recent hol in Frinton-on-Sea (HP’s ‘post’ not visible). Bless!
http://i1350.photobucket.com/albums/p773/minibreakfast/comedy%20old%20nude%20couple_zpssrmoxigx.jpg
minibreakfast says
(You do not want to know what I saw when googling “comedy old nude couple”.
*brrrr*
minibreakfast says
-close bracket-
hubert rawlinson says
That reminds me, I’ve some sheets to iron.
GCU Grey Area says
Old road sign;
Harwich – For The Continent.
Frinton – For The Incontinent.
© Barrie Cryer, or possibly earlier.
Rob C says
Forgive me, Sri Kaisfatdude, as I believe he knew you as, but this thread allows me to announce that our Yurt dwelling friend, he of the magick pakoras is, alas, amongst us no more.
On his travels down the myriad Etherweb leys, he encountered a Balrog, whom he would not let pass, and whom he subsequently vanquished. Unfortunately, in doing so, he used up a vast amount of his remaining vital chakraic elixir, and as a consequence, went to Tibet where ascended from Mount Kailash.
I am his reincarnation. Him, but not him, as the him known as him only ever existed in temporal material form. I have the honour to be attending to his blog from now on and continuing his ministry here in Afterwordland.
He left details notes on you all, which I have to hand, and there shall be an evening of free jazz and prog in his memory at The Thin Place Discotheque next full moon. There will be a wicker jacuzzi, gnome dunking, naked limbo twister, a crumhorn salute… all the things he loved.
Those of you that are invited will be contacted psychically.
Hari Ramsden _/\_
Kaisfatdad says
Zounds! By the foreskin of Odin, you are most welcome to this motley crew!
Merry will the maidens be at the news of your arrival and vibrant will be the tinklings of sylvian xylophones as the small people celebrate this awesome event.
Rob C says
You are most kind.
Here, cop some of this:
retropath2 says
Well, I hope he took his feckin’ sitar with him is all I say
Kaisfatdad says
I could spend a happy month subbing for Cheshire. Lots of folk festivals, dancing, real ale, crumhorns, buxom wenches keen for a bit of wassailing…
What ‘s not to like?
Rob C says
Just found this under a pile of bespoke filigree dew dappled cobwebbed satin azure Heironymus Bosch embossed day glow undercrackers, post-it-note attached saying thusly : ‘ For my dear old chum @retropath2‘
Lodestone of Wrongness says
Four Afterworders are standing by the ski-lift deep in thoughtful not to say meaningful conversation. None of this Fab Four see a giant snowball hurtling down the mountain towards them which is getting bigger with every roll.
You, not one of The Fab Four obviously, have been hanging around trying to think of something insightful not to say witty which might allow you to at least for once to be noticed.
You try shouting but as usual nobody listens.
Do you
A shrug your shoulders and run to safety
B shrug your shoulders and run to safety
C shrug your shoulders and run to safety????
Bingo Little says
Wait…. did anyone just hear something?
Kaisfatdad says
Hang on, Henpeg! I recognise that tale. It’s from Ancient Greece originally, isn’t it?
I’m convinced that it’s something Archimedes came up with in the bathtub.
Mike_H says
I’ll go for Option C.
Because it has four question marks.
GCU Grey Area says
Tooting Broadway?
Rigid Digit says
Is it Monk D’Wally de Honk?
That is usually the answer, if not that then Geoff Hurst in the 1966 World Cup Final.
Otherwise the answer will be Uruguay
D. shrug your shoulders and start a thread about tunes related to avalanches (possibly with illustrative YouTube clips)
Kaisfatdad says
I suspect this kind of ghost-writing goes on more than we know about.
In the golden days of rock journalism, I can easily imagine there were days when their star writers were under the affluence if inkohol. Or worse. Don’t tell me that a cub reporter was never given the task to knock out a quick piece In the Style Of their colleague.
When I think of the likes of Hunter S. Thompson, I’m amazed that he was ever in good enough shape to produce any copy.
Thank goodness that the AW Admins are such fine, upstanding folk. Otherwise the temptation to get someone to “knock together a Saucecraft” would be very large.
Kaisfatdad says
Monk d’Wally is only the correct answer if you slip Bambi Gascoigne 50 quid.
Before googling I was convinced that the Monkster was an obscure Belgian atonal jazzer on the Petrified Wombat label who had made it onto @duco01‘s best of 2014 list.
I was so wrong.
http://youtu.be/ILjVWm9xg_Q
bungliemutt says
There’s no easy way to tell you this KFD, but there are really only 2 people on this blog – you and 399 pseudonyms for Burt. He never really left, just adopted multiple personalities.
Kaisfatdad says
There’s no easy way to tell you this Bunglie, but I have to warn you before it’s too late.
I never really existed. I was simply one of the Four Hundred Faces of Burt. A mere pawn in his deadly game. But checkmate looms and soon it will all be over.
Please, please, please! Leave everything ! Just get out here before it’s to laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa………..
Locust says
And “Locust” is the collective name of a swarm of readers and music fans, posing as only one…seriously, did you really think that just one person could get through THAT much stuff?
H.P. Saucecraft says
EDIT – “collective name for“
H.P. Saucecraft says
wupes
Kaisfatdad says
Thankyou Locust. Or should I say Locusts? That explains so much.
If I invited 20 or so friends to help me, maybe I could sub for you all after all?
GCU Grey Area says
‘Four Hundred Faces Of Burt’ sounds like a long-lost Wu-Tang album. . .
Kaisfatdad says
Or an Afterword T shirt.
I’d love to see your sleeve design for that one.
Did you see Chiz’s very witty comment on my North Öland Epiphany? It sounded like a classic ECM album. I should try and do a sleeve for that myself.
In fact I feel a thread coming on: your summer holiday as a long-lost classic album.
GCU Grey Area says
Yes, I did see. ECM covers are great fun to do rip-offs of.
Is there a Swedish word for ‘Kaisfatdads-gone-away-for-a-few-days-somewhere-with-a-really-iffy-internet-connection-and-so-won’t-be-appearing-here-regularly-again-until-the-lingonberry-harvest-is-safely-gathered-in’ ? . .
Kaisfatdad says
There is indeed: katastrof!