The Comeback Tour

I rarely make New Year's resolutions. However, in 2012 I began to feel a slave to Facebook. It's certainly a fun pastime, but when I found myself passing all of my time just trying to catch up with everything my friends had been up to in the prior 24 hours, 16 hours, 12 hours, four hours, 15 minutes — however frequently I could get back to check — when I spent irretrievable hours, often past midnight, composing rebuttals to the posts of friends whose political opinions run counter to mine, I knew I had to change something.

I look back at this blog and see the span of time since I last posted something here, at the increasing intervals between posts up to that point.

Facebook did that.

Granted, in my blogging I had pretty much indulged just about every last random thought I had in my head — well... there are some I would do well to keep wrapped in the moist folds of my brain — but I have also fallen out of the practice of harnessing the energy of contemplation, of snatching a thought from the murky depths of my rambling mind and pinning it down for further rumination, of expressing myself in written form. I claim to be a writer, for crap's sake, and I had relegated myself to conjuring puns — clever puns, if I may say so myself — that nevertheless garnered groans and tepid applause from my stable of loyal — if not entirely supportive — friends.

So, to the best of my ability, I resolve to set Facebook on a higher shelf to make myself less likely to take it down to play with, yet keep it within reach, and to return Farrago to the easy-reach spot it occupied once long ago.

Wish me luck.