Like spent NASA rocket junk drifting uselessly through unimaginable space and time, old blog posts of mine will forever litter the Internet; unimportant paragraphs, unread and unwanted, filed and forgotten in the electronic Archives of Idleness; an infinitesimal library of ephemera shelved in the dimmest corner of an ever expanding abyss.
Apparently, in 2003, my blog declared the best film of the year to be David Cronenburg's Spider, starring Ralph Fiennes and Miranda Richardson. Another entry wondered, since 2003 marked the centenary of the Wright Brothers' exploits at Kitty Hawk, how Orville and Wilbur would approach the frustrations of modern air travel.
Alas, even the most bored of digital castaways would not consider these blog posts worth reading, so I'm damned if I'm going to provide a link. God knows why I felt compelled to write them in the first place and God knows why I'm writing about them now. "Of making many books there is no end," sayeth Ecclesiastes, and he didn't even know there would be an endless Internet to store everything.