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Noot Interested

November 23, 2009

I can’t imagine that anybody is ever going to read this, so I won’t bother telling whoever is doing it right now why I did it in the first place (contradiction!).  Bill Lumbergh and I are going to go ahead and assume that said reader cares as little as I do for exposition and will therefore gladly gloss over any introduction that I refuse to transcribe on this page.  I’m sure that whatever you’re probably uninterested by will come up in casual conversation between me and all my fans, so you needn’t worry about my personal preferences, hobbies, likes, and/or dislikes, because those things will be sure to make themselves known as we go along.  Trust me: more than enough people have decried my being “the most opinionated person they know”—that’s probably the only reason for Noot’s existence.  And you didn’t think I was gonna tell you.

Quick clarification with regard to nomenclature: although the insinuation seems a little too appropriate, the name of this pitiful cranny of the Internet is actually not a reference to the Dutch translation of what it will probably become, nor is it an allusion to a certain coming-of-age character in the best miniseries ever made.  It’s not a homage to an actress who plays Heidi in the emasculating New Moon, and it isn’t even the inane sequence of subordinate parts of speech that it appears to be.  In sooth, it has a certain relevance to a certain surname which I probably won’t divulge at the moment because it appears pretty foolish to write from a personal perspective to an audience of zero.  Isn’t that what crazy people do?  Or is that just what sane people assume that crazy people do?  Sounds insane, doesn’t it?

Anyway, I expect to post frequently, depending on the amount of time my oh-so-hectic schedule allots me.  A few disclaimers: don’t expect anything earth-shattering, don’t expect me to cast any pearls before the swine of which most writers assume the citizenry is composed, and certainly don’t expect me to rush to judgment “before all the facts are in“, because Buck Turgidson would roll in his grave.  Looking over that last sentence, I’m not sure I have a compelling reason to keep you here at all.  At this point, I’m sure you either are supremely bored or you owe me a favor.  Don’t worry: I’m not hard to please.

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