So here’s something: I’ve actually already written this alleged mission statement.
You see, in order for me to finish it before my partner-in-crime Ed strangled me through facebook chat, it’s taken the switching off of my laptop, and I am writing this with a biro on the back of a bank statement. The admirable intention was for my fondly loved fountain pen to sing these words onto the high-quality paper of my ex-diary. Both diary and pen have, for some reason, disappeared from my desk.
There is a point. For some time, we’ve been coming across more and more ‘for some reasons’. ‘For some reason, it’s a surprise when England are knocked out the World Cup’. Or ‘for some reason, the debate over the Iraq war, in mainstream media at least, lies not on the thousands of murders committed by British and US soldiers but on whether we should have waited for the UN to say it was ok to kill innocent people’.
‘For some reason, I’m surprised not find to my pen.’
A trivial and personal example, yet I can’t help avoiding the impression that not only are we not given answers to many things around us (my pen remains missing), but that we’re not asking the right questions (the novel idea of keeping my desk tidy has never occurred to me). What’s more, it seems we’re slowly being tricked, whether deliberately by an omniscient oligarchy or in an oblivious act of self-destruction on the part of civilisation, into ignoring the most obvious and fundamental of questions about the society in which we live (I am deceiving myself into thinking it would be no use to tidy my desk). Furthermore, we are encouraged, or convince ourselves, that these questions do not exist (there’s no such thing as an untidy desk).
An authentic philosophical superinjunction on uncovering the fabric of our everyday lives.
The seeds of the initial idea to begin a kind-of-writing-blog-thing-sort-of were probably first sewn when we contemplated, prior to finals in our much-mocked arts degrees, setting up a joint plumbing business. The faces which received our idea, among mothers and girlfriends alike, probably resembled those which received Galileo when, well oiled after an Italian wine or two, he plucked up the courage to absurdly pronounce that the world orbits the sun.
It may be time to reach the point: are we too reluctant to say ‘why not?’?
In fact, recently we’ve been chomping at the bit to ask. But then over the past couple of months, layabout soap-dodgers that we were/are, we have witnessed many a sunrise with a can of warm beer in hand. In those epiphanic moments, the negation of ‘why not?’ is magical. It is a question that wipes the slate clean, abolishing all possible previously conceived reasons…because you just know there is no ‘not’. Thought is stripped down and ready to be redressed. The apolitical mind can approach politics. The metaphysical soldier enters into battle on physical terrains. Essentially, the desire to transcribe these drunken ponderlusts onto paper (or screen) is what drove this blog from the start.
…and into the ring (Ed)…
“A philosopher who is not taking part in discussions is like a boxer who never goes into the ring” – Substitute ‘philosopher’ for a slightly more general, and less big-headed term, and this blog becomes our ring.
The so-called fighter who has never donned a pair of gloves will not only be terrible on the canvas but will also, without doubt, retire unfulfilled. This blog is thus a blow-by-blow account of our attempts to develop our own powers of thought, dialogue and writing; as well as gain more confidence and fulfilment from flexing our intellectual muscles in front of a crowd. Inevitably there will be some spurious beliefs in our collective heads and bringing them to the surface is likely to be embarrassing, but it should also be fun. Every boxer should enter the ring with conviction; weaknesses that arise can be ironed out afterwards in training. After all, even a series of first round defeats should be educational; and hopefully provide some catharsis.
Brawls will most probably centre on politics, philosophy, and sociology. However, you should always be ready for a wild haymaker-of-a-rant about more down to earth issues or a cheeky little uppercut-of-a-passing-thought about sport/music/literature.
…but unfailingly back for last orders (Olly)
Because, at the end of the day, ponderlust is a malleable state of mind. It doesn’t follow a political dogma and has an insatiable curiosity. It might produce a short story, it might produce an comment article, it might produce the transcription of a dream. It might produce a comment article in the form of a short story which appeared in a dream. Expect nothing and expect everything.
Take us with a pinch of salt, of course. Well might we, enlightened bloggers that we are, ridicule the illogical dismissal of a career path. We were able to ask why we should not start a plumbing business, but when we proposed offering philosophical conversations and Spanish lessons with the service, we simply laughed the thought off. But why not? Why not combine our talents and offer something different to the competition? After all, the market rules, doesn’t it? But we chickened out. We don’t offer philosophising plumbing, we offer a blog. Just like every other young start-up spouting their vision to save the world. As for the plumbing business, well my kitchen tap is still leaking.
Let’s be blunt. I was forced to write this on paper because, if the article which was the final prompt for the materialisation of this project is true, Google has already destroyed our ability to philosophise deeply. Maybe this blog exists to enable us to keep ponderlusting.
But then, why would you believe a word I write? I lied to you from the moment I began saying I’d already written this article, which I clearly hadn’t because I’m writing it now. And still am. And still. And. Still.
Beware of what you read, friends. But never stop enjoying it.
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