Ladies and gentlemen – valued readers – friends, enemies, and those of you too apathetic to read the blog and just come here for the cute pictures: I have very big news.
I have been sequestered in the Compound for almost a year now and have been writing for State of Affairs since June 15th. I’ve come to care deeply about our work here because I think it’s worthwhile: too many blogs pollute the internet with boring minutiae, piss-poor rhetoric and irrelevant pseudo-intellectual wanking. Here at State of Affairs we try to offer an alternative to this pabulum, and the reader response I’ve received has led me to believe we’ve been reasonably successful in that endeavour. If nothing else we have incited some pretty interesting conversations and debates, and in my books that makes us good at what we do.
If you’re a long-time reader you’ve probably also been following the exploits of SOAs Fearless Leader, Jim Fairthorne. I’ve tried to keep you up to date on Jim’s status as the weeks go by, but frankly it’s often an exercise in futility – the man is very hard to nail down. I didn’t even know he’d written any articles until I was backtracking through the archives looking for some turn of phrase I’d used that I thought was clever. I was a little shocked because I had totally lost track of him: that he suddenly showed up and started posting was almost embarrassing.
So I cornered him. Physically. The loopy bastard had snuck into the Compound under cover of night while Jeff and I were passed out after yet another night of whiskey consumption. I awoke just in time to see him making off with the last three bottles. Heaving myself from the prostrate position in which I’d collapsed I shouted his name. We made eye contact – his grin and wink reminded me of some kind of Bizarro Peter Pan – and he made for the door. I leaped after him with all the grace of a wounded pack animal hit with a taser and managed to catch hold of his wiry arm as he fumbled with the door whilst trying to juggle my whiskey.
AJ: Jim! What the hell are you doing?
Jim: What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking your booze.
Jim: Right here.
AJ: No, where are you taking it?
Jim: With me.
AJ: I am in no mood to be trifled with, Fairthorne.
Jim: I am in no mood to trifle with you, James – it sounds a little homoerotic for my tastes.
AJ: Just answer the question. Where are you going?
Jim: I can’t tell you that.
AJ: Why not?
Jim: Fixer’s orders.
AJ: He ordered you not to tell me where you’re going with my whiskey?
Jim: Well, he was less specific about the booze, but yeah.
Jim: I don’t know. I didn’t ask.
AJ: Since when do you do what you’re told?
Jim: Since I started getting paid in whiskey.
AJ: That’s MY whiskey!
AJ: Well, what are we supposed to do about State of Affairs?
Jim: You seem to have it well in-hand. We clocked a huge number of hits yesterday. Of course, that was mostly due to my inspired post about those fakers in the Black Eyed Peas.
AJ: Yeah, I think you managed to disenfranchise an entire subculture with that post. Good for you.
Jim: I do what I can.
AJ: But if you’re back out on the road, how are you going to update the site? I don’t think WordPress allows uploading of telegrams.
Jim: That’s true. The Fixer’s provided me with a Blackberry so I can forgo all the nonsense with the carrier pigeons – I think he considered it an investment in my future, seeing as I wound up having to eat the last few pigeons when I was in Bangkok. Not bad with a little soy sauce, by the bye.
AJ: Your disgusting dietary habits aside, using a Blackberry to update daily is going to be a trial for you.
Jim: That’s true. Okay, tell you what – I’m going to give you the keys to the city.
AJ: What do you mean?
Jim: As of now, I’m officially granting you a field commission and putting you in charge of the day-to-day running of SOA. I’ll post when I can, but for the most part, this blog is your baby now. We don’t have a crown or scepter, so you’ll just have to make do with the title. Mazel tov.
And with that, Jim wrenched himself free of my grasp and vanished through the open door and into the night. I didn’t even have time to express the fact that I’ve more-or-less been running this blog for the last month anyway. But I will admit it was kind of nice to hear that I get to be the Grand Poobah from this point forward. For the record, despite what Jim said, I can’t vouch for him in any way, shape or form. I’ll be pleasantly surprised if he posts when he’s on the road, because I can only imagine it’s pretty difficult to write articles whilst fleeing from local authorities, dodging broken beer bottles and generally acting like a raging lunatic.
So I guess you’re all stuck with me from now on. Apologies all around. Welcome to the New World Order, dear readers – sit down, pour yourself a drink, and enjoy the ride.