John Shirley sets aside his eminently enjoyable blog -- nearly a year's worth of informed, justifiably outraged commentary on a world gone thoroughly (and probably terminally) insane.
From Shirley's final (?) post:
"This blog has done sorta kinda alright, in terms of readership, but I'm probably too idiosyncratic a writer--you can say cranky, even eccentric, and sometimes mordant, if you want--for a daily blog. I'm not a guy who takes bits and pieces from here and there and puts them in with jpegs. I don't write in any one vein, either. So I probably have confused some readers with the variety of my topics. It may be not my ideal format just as chatrooms and Instant Messages are basically inimical to me and I to them. Oil and water. I'm a novelist, I suppose. Mostly. Is a blog a place for a novelist? Is the internet the place for long thoughts? Sometimes, here and there about the web one finds a long thought, still buzzing, tied up in spider silk. Mostly though I suspect it's a medium designed for soundbites and flickering imagery and an almost hierographic form of communication--in a digital sort of way, I mean."
Bingo!
John's books are damned good, too. I've got a few reviewed here. More soon.
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