An Open Letter Regarding My Lack of Updates

Dearest readers,

I am very sorry for not updating my blog more often.  I was busy and denied you a new post for almost a whole week, and for that I throw myself at your feet and beg for the mercy we both know I don’t deserve.

I can’t even imagine how disappointing it was for you to check my website hour after hour, day after day, desperately hoping for a new post, only to realize I had abandoned you.  Here is an artist’s rendering of you after just one day.

Here is day three.

And day five.

All I can say is that I’m sorry.  Really truly deeply sorry.  I know that can’t take away the tears shed, clothes torn, hairs pulled, or the Gods forsaken, but please believe me when I say that hurting you also hurts me.

But it goes even deeper than that.   It’s not just you, the reader, I hurt, but the entire Internet because if there is one thing the web needs, it’s more blog posts.  There is a serious dearth of self-important, inane ramblings on the web, and for almost a week I was the problem instead of the solution.  So Internet, please accept my apology.

Though now that I think about it, I also owe the world an apology.  Thankfully, world somehow survived without new blog posts from me, but surviving is not the same thing as thriving.  Isn’t it possible that if I posted just a few more times last week, Israel and Palestine would have established real, lasting peace; GM would have rolled out a successful line of fully electric cars, thus ending global warming; and Bono would have found a way to feed the world through self-righteous music?  I very well could have blown a once in a lifetime opportunity to save the world, and for that I will be forever sorry.

There comes a time in every Internet reader’s life when they realize their blogger is not perfect, and I think for you that moment is now.  I am not perfect.  Sometimes I make mistakes.  Other times I go to Ottawa for an animation festival.  But even other times I stand here as a blogger, asking you, as a reader, to forgive me, because isn’t forgiveness (and sharing data) why scientists invented the Internet in the first place?

Sincerely,
Adam

The Real World: United Nations

This is the true story of 192 countries picked to live in a house, work together, and have their lives taped and translated. Find out what happens when countries stop being polite and start getting real.

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Iraq’s room

Iraq: America, get out already!

America: I was just helping you hang some curtains.

Iraq: They’re up.  They’re a little crooked, but they’re up.  And hopefully better than those old Venetian blinds you tore down.  But whatever, you need to get out.  Also, can I borrow 100 bucks?

America: I thought you were getting a job at the gas station.

Iraq: That’s not working out as well as we hoped.  Give me some money.

…

The living room

China: What’s up, America?  Want to watch Julie & Julia?  I got it on DVD.  The picture’s a little shaky, but you can still tell what’s going on.

America: Maybe later.  But hey, while I’m here, Iraq needs 100 bucks, so can I borrow 200 hundred bucks?

China: Okay, but you have to promise to not get mad when I leave my trash everywhere, torture my house guests and switch your toothpaste with lead.

America: Deal.

…

The kitchen

Israel: You put your finger in my peanut butter, Palestine.

Palestine: You stole my peanut butter.

Israel: No, I was given your peanut butter.  You can’t just put your finger in it.

Palestine: I can do whatever I want with MY peanut butter.

Palestine’s cousin kicks Israel in the shins.

Israel: Damnit Palestine!

Palestine: Hey that was my cousin, not me.

Palestine winks at his cousin.

Israel punches Palestine in the face.

Palestine’s cousin give’s Israel a dead-leg.

Israel puts Palestine in a headlock.

America: Hey guys, knock it off!

Israel and Palestine: NO!

Palestine’s cousin kicks America in the crotch.

America: Sonofa!

America farts on Palestine.

Palestine: See?  You always take his side!

…

The front door

Italy: Ahh, you’ve come at last, my darling.

Young Hot Babe: Tee hee.

France: Hey Italy.  You have to stop inviting all these strange girls over.

Young Hot Babe: Giggle, giggle.

Italy: I can do what I want!

France: Yeah, but there’s just so many of them and we don’t know who they are.  What if they try to steal something?  Show a little restraint.

Italy: You are just jealous.

France: I’ve got a supermodel wife.

Italy: Touché

France: Also, put on some pants.  You’re embarrassing yourself.

…

House meeting

Afghanistan: Why was I brought to this meeting?

America: You’ve got to start cleaning your bathroom.

Afghanistan: I resent the implication!  My bathroom is spotless.

England: Everyone can smell it.  The whole house reeks.

Afghanistan: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

America: Look, Afghanistan, I’ll come in and help you clean up.

Russia: Oooh, America.  Ix-nay on the elp-hay.

America: Why?  What’s wrong.

Russia: I once tried getting in there and couldn’t handle it.

America: That was a long time ago.  I’m sure it’ll be different with me.

Russia: Your funeral.

…

Outside Iran’s door

America: Hey, Iran, we need to talk.

Iran pokes his head out

Iran: What do you want?

England: Can we come in?

Iran: No.

France: Look, we know you’re making a meth lab in there.

Iran: No I’m not.  That’s ridiculous.

America: Can we come in?

Iran: No.

France: If you don’t let us in in the next month or so, there will be terrible consequences.

Iran: You’ll kick me out of the house?

England: Worse.  We’ll make you pay a larger share of the utilities.

Iran: What?  That’s crazy.  China, you’re okay with this?

China: It’s nothing personal.

Iran: Typical.  And Russia, you too?  What about bros before G.I. Joes?

Russia: Oh man, Iran.  Don’t be like that.  You know you’re my brother from another mother, but seriously, you could blow up the house.

Iran: Whatever.  North Korea’s got tons of crazy stuff in his room.

North Korea: (heard muffled through his door) Yeah! Say hello to my little friend!  Kill ‘em all, Pacino

America: Right, but he just holes up in his room and watches movies.

…

House hallway

Libya: (ranting to self) Swine flu was invented by the American Coast Guard to kill Martin Luther King Jr!  I want a sandwich.  The Vatican is responsible for 9/11.  A roast beef sandwich!  Arabs and Jews play naked Twister with each other.  Lettuce and tomato, hold the mayo.

Germany: Can’t we force Libya into a nursing home or something?  He’s obviously lost it.

Italy: I’m afraid not.  He lives in a tent in our backyard.  That’s out of our jurisdiction.

Libya: I said hold the mayo!  Africa vetoes this sandwich.

…

House meeting

Turkey: I just want to say again, I didn’t drink the Armenian coffee, and that it was a long time ago, but that most importantly I deny drinking it.

America: Hey Turkey, relax, no need to bring it up.  No one is saying you killed the pot of Armenian coffee.

France: Actually, I think he did.

Russia: Me too.

Italy: He totally finished it off.

America: Look, the important thing is we move past whatever Turkey did or did not do so we can play his Xbox 360.

Germany: This is bull!  I’m not always included in house meetings because of that time I ate all the bagels, but you’re willing to let Turkey off the hook?