Please welcome today’s guest writer, Kyric Koning, Born on a night when the moon was too busy shaking the water from her murky cloud-rugs into a world which has long forgotten magic came the incorrigible hermit sage, Kyric Koning. Stigmatized thusly, this child of fate determined that with his limited set of skills, which had not progressed from the Dark Ages but had been honed over many years, training, and encounters, there was only one course aptly suited to him that didn’t require the presence of others: writing. In 2013 he graduated Calvin with a degree in English, minoring in classical studies and writing, disappearing soon after from the world of mortal eyes somewhere within Michigan’s Grandville area. With the right stick, he can be prodded from under his rock for forays into the realm of men, but most of the time he spends lost in the multiverse of his imagination, creating and discovering fantastical worlds that may one day be apparent to more than him alone via multiple epic chronicles.
In case the title wasn’t enough, this is NOT a blog. (Underlined, italicized, bolded, capitalized, stressed, colored, wait for the fireworks). Kyric Koning does not write blogs. Kyric Koning does like to refer to himself in third person. Kyric Koning does so because it bestows a certain elegance, unlike blogs. Even the name sounds like someone vomiting.
By some misfortune, blogs have become a herald of our generation. Gone are the days of quill and parchment. Now are the days of caressing the keyboard, crooning, “My precious.” (Though that could just be Kyric Koning.)
Gone are the days of consideration, carefully crafting each word onto the page, spilling out the soul into every etch of ink and trying to get the most from a limited page. Now computers are able to hold thousands of pages in such little space, though most of what is written cannot—yes, cannot—be called writing. Instead, we get “writing” that is filled with the kind of meaningless, middle-school drivel, which apparently carries utmost importance, yet makes the skin crawl by revealing useless facts or stories no one cares about: “Ermahgerd, tonight we’re having, like, biscuits~!” [Proceeds to bludgeon readers with hashtag upon hashtag.]
But tonight, you’re also getting beef.
SO TIME FOR A CIRCUS, FRIENDS AND COUNTRYMEN, IF YOU’LL LEND KYRIC KONING YOUR EARS!
Why blogs? The things are entirely too short. Certainly, grand epics aren’t for everyone, but blogs could use a little more substance. How can quality even come from something lacking quantity? Blogs aren’t worth the time to write, much less read. The five minutes spent reading them could be spent on better things like perfecting a villainous laugh, playing a round of Spoons with imaginary friends, or finally making the “Duck-Face” sexy.
Yet people obsess over blogs, make multiple blogs for different “themes” based on the mood they’re in, how many toes they wake up with, or on what day of the week Odin decides to throw the Ragnarok.
Why Norse mythology, you ask? There is no reason for it. Like blogs. (This is where Kyric Koning would put some kind of emoticon to indicate a hint, if Kyric Koning partook in such frivolous behavior).
Better yet, blogs can be about whatever, like one big-ass buffet of consciousness! Bloggers explain it as a way to express themselves, bring out their inner Muse. But really, the world doesn’t need another Jackson Pollock. People acclaim blogs with adjectives such as “trendy,” “simple,” or “fab.” Do those adjectives sound applicable to the Kyric Koning? When did this phenomena happen? Why?
Here’s Kyric Koning’s theory:
One day, hundreds of years from now, the world entered a utopia. War, crime, abuse, and inequality have all been eradicated and all potential miscreants have been sequestered in a place where they can do no harm: Jersey. Seeing the hated peace, a despicable denizen of the Underworld possessed a scientist to create a time machine to travel back to a year ripe with degenerative potential. 1997 was chosen, along with the hapless Peter Merholz, to be the catalyst of the diabolical scheme. All it took was two words, two duplicitous words, whispered into a naive ear: “We blog.” What was meant as a playful joke infected the souls of all who came into contact with it, passing from person to person like a plague. Millennials contracted it first. In a mere two years, the damage was irreversible. Thus, corruption entered mankind, turning them into fellow denizens and leading them onto the runaway path of their eventual, self-perpetuating destruction.
That’s why Kyric Koning doesn’t write blogs. Kyric Koning stands at the frontline of justice and hope, fighting to reclaim the lost future before its path is completely sundered. The works of Kyric Koning are things of art! They have drive, depth, destination, and squirrels!
So what is this? A nostalgic rant? A cry for change? A compilation of sweet nothings and words, words, words? A series of inside jokes and obscure, dated references? Insomniac ramblings of the line between insanity and scholasticism? Scribbles of thought, haphazardly jumbled together to simulate syntax? The insidious schemes of hackers seeking to slander the name of Kyric Koning?
Whatever. It’s not a blog. That’s all.
Not good enough! In the streets, the internet chat-rooms, the deplorable threads of forums, the cry rings out. Pitchforks and torches are distributed. Even now, Kyric Koning imagines a scathing injunction in the form of words oozing firebrands and acid from the respectable heads of this esteemed organization who feel their trust has been betrayed:
“To whom it concerns,”
(They do not say “Kyric Koning” because Kyric Koning has done that enough)
“This IS a blog.”
(Underlined, italicized, bolded, capitalized, stressed, colored, still waiting on the fireworks)
(But seriously and with righteous indignation)
“Those denizens who write blogs”
(Call us Legion, for we are many)
(P.S. We don’t know who you think you are, claiming this, but we do have a very particular set of skills; skills we have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make us a nightmare for people like you. If you rescind this atrocity now, that’ll be the end of it. We think you know this quotation parody well enough to know where it will lead for you.)
The real problem here is you are being too positive.
Ha. Kyric Koning has always wanted to say that.
People love to categorize things. It makes life easier, more manageable. That is a nice boulder! My spoon is too big! Dear God, what is that thing! This is madness!
Really, it is.
Blogs are a compression of life, but in the condensing, much is lost. The world consists of indeterminate shades of gray (though definitely not fifty; that goes too far), which the structureless blogs cannot capture. To gain the clarity necessary for life and growth, we need a darker stain: the doctrine of Kyric Koning—the life of nots.
While not quite a life of naught, it goes unnoticed to another’s eye, as if hypnotized into thinking life is nautical, denoted by its speed of knots so knotted its connotation takes a notch out of its notoriety, becoming nothing more than monotonous.
Such a naughty boy.
However, sometimes categorizing something with “not” helps. By assessing everything that is not, what is becomes clearer. Today, Kyric Koning is not happy. But Kyric Koning is also not sad. Kyric Koning is something else, something a blog’s voice cannot express. Blogs are but children, their vocabularies are not as extensive as their predecessors’, novels. Their emotions, their thoughts, their weight all are too thin. They are a piece of a puzzle that belongs to another set owned by someone else who has locked it away in his attic.
What blogs are, what they do, is not something Kyric Koning fully understands, nor are blogs something Kyric Koning likes. With the smorgasbord of topics to digest, all they do is inflict sickness. Lamenting won’t solve anything, though. Kyric Koning’s eyes will still ache as they unwillingly slash through the meatless neck of the blog-hydra. Kyric Koning’s body will collapse. But Kyric Koning’s words will go on.
Perhaps they have gone on too long. Perhaps they have not gone far enough. Perhaps they have fallen on deaf ears. Perhaps Kyric Koning will be banned from here for his apocalyptic heresy. Kyric Koning will still think blogs may ruin us all.
Or perhaps they will push people into pursuing *cough*serious*cough* writing. That too is a choice of the Steins Gate.
So, what’s the purpose of this…whatever it is?
Don’t look at Kyric Koning. Or this.
Go find some yourself.
And while you’re at it, see what happened to the fireworks.