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Add one part satire to two parts sincerity. Sprinkle on a couple of rants. Stir liberally.
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Daily Blah FAQ
Who are you?
I'm the newly-appointed Future editor at Business 2.0 and the former San Francisco correspondent for Time Magazine.
Wow, so does this mean everything you write reflects Time Inc's opinion? Or do you perhaps have some sort of standard disclaimer to the effect that it doesn't?
Naturally, the opinions contained in this blog are not those of my employers. In fact, some opinions may be the polar opposite of my employers. Some may be the same, for all I know. Hey, it's not like I ask my employers their opinions about everything in the news, okay? Let's just say that if this were a Venn diagram with one circle marked "my opinions" and the other one marked "my employers' opinions", there would doubtless be some overlap. But neither I nor my employers are able to pinpoint exactly where that overlap is.
What is this Daily Blah thing?
An experiment for a column I wrote about blogging back in December 2001. All these years later, I haven't been able to kick the habit.
If it's called Daily Blah, how come you don't ... hey, wait, you're writing every day!
See? Told you I'd try harder.
Mister, you talk funny. Are you one of them furrners?
Why yes I am, as it happens. I was born, raised and educated in Great Britain. I've been living in the U.S. since 1996 and identify as British.
I say, old chap, you forgot the "u" in "colour."
No I didn't. I may identify as British, but I am also an American journalist writing for an American audience about mostly American issues. These two different sides of me are a constant source of tension. Nevertheless, Daily Blah will adhere to American English grammar and spelling.
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Daily Blah for... Sunday, July 07, 2002
The Battle of Bull Run
If there is some gene that causes an inclination towards Hemmingway-esque stuff, I don't possess it. I have absolutely no interest in shooting, boxing, fishing or participating in a major European civil war. When I went to Pamplona during the running of the bulls, I was not one of the testosterone-filled mental adolescents trying to whack the bull on the tail with a rolled-up newspaper, but rather sitting comfortably further up in the arena seating with my sister, shaking my head at the sorry spectacle. Why did these idiots want to do this? What did they have to prove, and to whom? Was it a misguided attempt to work their way into the hearts of women? If so, I remember, the bulls were not playing along, but were rather making very well-guided attempts to work their horns into the hearts of their provocateurs. So it does not surprise me to learn that three people were gored in this year's run. It does surprise me to learn that a 19-year-old woman from Kansas was among the three. Even the more sensible sex, it seems, carries the Hemmingway gene.
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