and having to devote more of my mental energies toward work I’ve found I have less to devote to the site.  This may be temporary, an adjustment period in which my stress and annoyance gradually return to acceptable levels. And then again it may not. In either case I’ve decided to take the advice of some friends and fellow bloggers and make a small change here at The Nonist.

From here on out, or for the foreseeable future at least, I will be changing to a regular publishing schedule. New content can be expected on Sundays and Thursdays. I hope that by pulling back from the possible 7 to the concrete 2 I’ll be able to stretch out a bit and craft even better content with less filler, and, I guess it goes without saying, less needless stress on yours truly.

Though this need not be anything other than a minor scheduling change I am choosing to consider it a mutagen and as such am feeling compelled to rethink and refocus.

As obliquely hinted at in this post I am feeling artistic… stirrings. I find the act of blogging as it stands to be less and less interesting. I feel almost as if it amounts to little more than reportage. “Tonight’s big story- Guy in living room finds something which interests him on internet! A few explanatory paragraphs at 11.” As I hope you’ve noticed I do my best to crosscut all the links and bald reportage with completely off-topic writing and original content.  But even this partial retreat from the flow of what’s “topical” does not seem quite enough. After all as more bloggers ensconce themselves in their specialized niches everything begins to fit comfortably into the fold. I always find myself wondering, “How can a blog go beyond what it is, however artistic, and cross-over into the a space where it is itself Art?” I have as of yet not been able to form a satisfactory reply, so I won’t even pretend at having an answer.

What I do know is this: I long ago made the first “mistake” of blogging, which is offering broad and eclectic content. Avoiding a focus and eschewing a niche is a sure fire way to relegate yourself to confused obscurity. You are continually in the act of disappointing people, of failing to meet their expectations, of changing where people seek the familiar. Having chosen right at the outset to do this, to let my online space mimic my own mental state, there is little reason why I shouldn’t at this point just commit total blog-suicide and descend into even more abstract, opaque, complex, and unmarketable forms of expression. In doing so I may alienate yet more of you who stop by simply to see what “neat” things I’ve dug-up and linked, but then that’s a price I am willing to pay. If I never see another referer-log entry for the posts on chindogu, the erotic coloring book, making love in 1975, or any other trifle I did little else but report on, well, all the better.

What changes are coming? I can’t say exactly, perhaps none. Perhaps this mode of simply curating is the natural order and I can not escape it within the confines of the blog form. But then again perhaps I will go months without a single outgoing link? Perhaps I’ll do nothing but write a serialized bit of fiction about an amnesiac autodidact? Perhaps I’ll post… well, as I’ve said, I really don’t know. But I am formally announcing my intent right now to do my best to cast-off the yoke I took up voluntarily and look for something new with the tiny slice of time I have.

Thus freed I feel both giddy and confused, the infusion of possibility enlivening, its uncontrolled flow a chaotic crush. How might I utilize the stretched time? What will I do with the thrice erased surface? I have no idea. My hope, however, is that what follows will satisfy deeper cravings in myself and, terrifically unlikely as it might be, some of yours as well.

So consider this a gentleman’s warning that what The Nonist is may henceforth change.

In Summation