nektros - Cynicism in a Hot Dish

I enjoy watching new blogs die a slow, agonising death.

Since joining the so-and-so times interesting yet rarely often engaging enough to warrant a sphere branding-osphere two years ago, I have seen a multitude of very good and very bad blogs crash and burn in a manner comparable to throwing a match onto a gasoline-soaked tyre swing harbouring a newborn puppy and fastened to a branch overhanging a radioactive-powered shark-infested whirlpool.

“I’m not exactly a wife-beater aficionado who’s making plans on joining the club any time down the track,” I said, “but really, they’re any normal couple who were only exchanging a few words.”

“Oh, please,” replied the purveyor of bad taste judgements present in all of our lives. “You know it’s a different story when no-one else’s looking. Back there it was a bit of shouting; for all we know, the rest of the time it’s backhands and NASA-approved, industrial-strength foundation to cover up black eyes.”

There is something meticulously discomfiting about writing in public. More so, there is something distractingly meta about writing in public in preparation for an online post, to the extent that even strategically placed nonsensical adjectives fail to disguise the fact that for the most part, public doodling is a dying cum extinct form of word whipper-uppering.

You know negativists.

They never have a happy word to offer. They sulk and soak up the joy from a room. They wipe the smile from anyone unfortunate enough to crash-land into their personal black hole of a stratosphere.

You’re a straight-talker.

Lies? Have nothing on your bullshit radar. Bullshit? You see through it all. Transparent people? They’re beneath you.

And damn anyone who belittles your pride in that fact.

Skeptic. Doubter. Pessimist.

Realist.

Like your typical Scorpio or misanthropist, cynics tend to be recognised more for their (perceived) negative qualities than their less petty attributes.