You didn't really think you were going to get rid of me so easily, did you? Here I am in Edinburgh, waiting with bated breath for the opening of the General Synod of the Scottish Episcopal Church. Oh, all right - I'm exaggerating, if not actually being economical with the truth.
I shan't be lugging the laptop up to Palmerston Place tomorrow - wifi-less, I believe. Like a bachelor pad. Sorry. I'm looking forward to meeting up with some folk I don't see often, but really I hate meetings. Must be having to sit quietly.
I've been reading ab's thoughts about what blogging does, and when he'll stop doing it. I took the chance to unload in a comment some of the thoughts I've been having the last couple of days, occasioned by the veritable stushie that sprang up on my own comment column. I suppose it comes back to how we regard comment, and how we feel about saying (writing) things so publicly. And there is the additional question of what constitutes rudeness and what is merely a robust exchange. Often, of course, it is possible to disguise criticism and hostility by using, say, the impersonal third person to make your point rather than the second person, which always comes across as more direct. But most readers are perfectly capable of sussing the hostility/jibes/criticism anyway - so is it more honest just to say what you think? And then there are people who make a game of that sort of thing - just listen to Prime Minister's Questions and hear what I mean.
I dunno. I'm always aware of potential readers when I write, and try not let the side down stylistically or in any other way. I won't be shutting away the laptop any day soon - I've kept a diary for 50 years, dammit, and it's still on the go too. In a way, there's a frustrated journo lurking in me, and I'm sure blogging's as good as Dr Kawashima for stimulating the brain cells.
Maybe I'll try a wee moblog tomorrow ....