"I cannot guarantee that you will always be entertained. I am in no position to assure your satisfaction. What I can say with unabashed certainty is that if you make the decision keep up with this in some manner, you are poised to witness something special somewhere either in the festering lands of spectacular failure or the pristine-ness of success mountain." - Post #1: A Stated Purpose
And with the benefit of time now at our disposal, anyone in a position to judge is able to speak with certainty. 17 posts later, the ultimate destination of this project was an unwelcoming - and, frankly, at times putrid smelling - lagoon; a humid and non-descript outpost of its own unbearable creation. A 'spectacular failure,' though, might be a stretch. This is a word pairing even the most void of shame euphemism will shy away from. Or have I inadvertently written the best piece of ad-copy since the brochure establishing Arizona as a hot-spot for worldwide tourism?
The truth is that my fleeting success is nothing glorious. Work equipment was abandoned, the crew was stranded, and any and all plans were aborted; and for what it matters, blame can only be placed on my head: the source of these ideas. In hindsight, the groundbreaking of this blog began, perhaps, on an unsturdy foundation. Unrealistic goals set to be reached on a fairytale timeline. Building codes were ignored. The slow but deliberate gentrification of an undisputably repulsive construction site was left to its own resources.
So when the structure came tumbling down it happened in an instant - with one fell swoop and without warning, a poorly written, and needlessly long, conclusory sentence not withstanding. The slow trickle of news from within the new and mysterious compound, from whence decisions seemed to emanate, ceased. Like a spurned produce company at the height of the imperial age, it appeared that all investment had suddenly been withdrawn. The hundreds, and some might even say, incorrectly, thousands of remaining residents were left to their own devices. Essentially I, reluctantly in charge, retreated into my own mind. I chose only to venture out sporadically and without a stated purpose. The root cause lies at the foot of the most fervently formidable foe; and sometimes the roots of this foe have spread deeper into the heart of its prey than a redwood to Earth's womb.
Luckily the damaged structure appears to be buoyant; or so I learned after a brief visitation. Conjuring memories of the Grand hotel, on that Lake Geneva shoreline, nonetheless, the ruins' resting place were given away by its rudimentary flares and smoke signals upon the water's surface. The remaining pieces were scattered and the original intention long forgotten. Unfortunately, though, the same foreman appears to have found a new sense of purpose...
Now that I have typed that unreadable metaphor out of my system, I can speak to you directly; no frills at all; less frequently, at best, if luck's kind ways win out in the end. I shan't even use a pick-up line. Look, even from a distance I noticed how nice you look. But having a better view now I can tell you really are different. How about a second first date? I am re-tooled and re-energize.d I have new ideas and an embarrassment of time to express them. So long as I keep expectations at about the same level as a powerlifter's bench press - perfect for pushing towards a goal - success should be attainable. If nothing else this is the insurance policy I have taken out on myself; a way to assure this remains a fun way to pass the time and not so much a needless source of stress.
But what of your return on investment this time around? I have a hard time imagining an opposition to shorter posts. The content of this most succinct spectacle should be purposely diverse, painfully niche-y, but exercise discrepancy overall. And the frequency, well, grind ipsa loquitur.
- John Noggle
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