False Starts and New Beginnings

Awake too early after a night heavy with gin, and sitting in my bicycle pajamas willing the world to stop spinning. This seems as good a time as any to try to win at the internet, the prize being an amusingly named blogger account which suitably reflects my general curmudgeonly streak.

The human race being a font of unoriginal ideas, all interesting variations on Youngcurmudgeon are taken, as are all the variations on Miss/Ms Misanthropy. I find myself forced to look at the C word as being one with rather more than the usual four letters. Having secured this, I am resigning myself not to be one of those bloggers who will be liked and adored for their pretty pictures of baked goods or charming and heartwarming tales of human endurance/romance/personal fashion. I am ready, in the style of Machiavelli's prince, to be feared (albeit with a healthy sense of irony).

So who am I, and what am I doing here? I am a twenty-something student, rapidly approaching an age at which my sequesterment in various institutions of higher education is somewhat unseemly. Having extended a gen-Y adolescence roughly as far as is plausible with various forms of academic pursuit, I feel my deep cynicism for the future of the human race is quite definitely supported by the evidence. For example, some of you read. This is an excellent start, however tempered by the fact that in large numbers your choice of reading materials tend towards celebrity endorsed cookbooks, mediocre crime fiction, columns by racist and fear-mongering hacks like Andrew Bolt, Twilight and pick-up artist manuals.

If you sometimes think the human race is doomed because the stupid people won't stop breeding, and your response to this is bemused exasperation and not some kind of alarming eugenics program, welcome. Please enjoy this brief collection of surly rants, and feel free to leave me some comments quantifying my elitist wanker quotient and letting me know what else you think. In return, I'll try to work on the TL; DR and do my best to turn my impotent rage into something which might bring you some entertainment.