I think that these days, the longer the blogpost, the happier I am happier pressing the “publish” button, to the extent that many shorter posts languish for months before being deleted, without you ever having read them. I wonder if this isn’t something that happens as you get older, or at any rate when you do something for a long period of time. Eventually there’s only so many different sugar coatings you can put on the same idea, before the chef himself revolts at the recipe; even if the palate might still have been invigorated and the concept digested.
It’s almost impossible for me these days to write a double-paragraph blogpost. Single paragraphs are only a distant dream. Single sentences, such as I warmed up with nearly nine years ago? Don’t make me chuckle: those are fodder for one or other Twitter account (depending on how offensive or ire-attracting they are.) In fact, right this moment I’m resisting the temptation to expand this post to three paragraphs. Perhaps I could write finis by ending this one with a semi-rhetorical question; how could I possibly be satisfied writing shorter, pithier, more frequent blogposts?