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It wasn't going to be like this. In the lead-up to Xmas, I was shaping up for a blogging bonanza (as you do). I bought a laptop and set it up with nothing more than a web browser, word processor and some choice mp3s and, before going south for the Xmas break, even sorted out that whole dial-up-using-a-mobile-phone-as-a-modem thing as there's no POP on the south coast and I didn't know if I could dial Adelaide from the house we rented for the week. Then there was the whole plate tectonics episode and all its aftermath, which kind of shut me up for two reasons. Firstly, this blog is a distraction for me; it's a creative outlet that I sometimes like to indulge in when I feel a bit creative. I could put a lot more work into it if I had the time and inclination to do so (and I have a lot of ideas about what I'd like to do with it). It's not brilliant. It's not meant to be. So when I learned about the big natural disaster, for me to be wanking on about the ridiculous minutae of my life seemed a little self-indulgent. The second reason is that just about every blogger in the world has mentioned something about the tsunami. Everyone had their own angle on it. Some have included outpourings of grief, condolences, others have drawn maps and little animations of waves washing over little cartoon shacks on beaches. Some of it has been heartfelt and honest; some, tacky and a little insensitive. I didn't want to have an angle and, to an extent, I deliberately shut myself off from it. I did this because I knew the media coverage would quickly descend into a pathetic and insulting leeching exercise, sapping every bit of setimentality and pathos it could from those affected and presenting it with all the finesse of a Hollywood blockbuster. I also distanced myself from it because I knew that if I sat and watched all the footage of waves pounding resorts; of corpses and, more specifically, of dead, dying or orphaned children, that I would just lose it. Not very brave I know. And I'm not trying to wear my heart on my sleeve or anything but it does affect me. When the hostage seige in Russia took place last year and all those children died, I couldn't go near the newspapers at work. It was just too much. A few years ago, I could have looked at that, or footage of the tsunami and been saddened but also strangely fascinated. But since becoming a parent I can't watch anything like that without my stomach being tied in knots. So I choose not to look. Call it self-preservation. So I've been quiet; cowardly avoiding having to have any opinion on current world events. The media I have seen has confirmed by suspicions and reinforced my loathing of commercial outlets (Ray's gone there... because, y'know... he can help) but my sanity and mental well-being have not been affected by what has occurred since Xmas (a week in a small house with my in-laws notwithstanding). Me wanking on about the ridiculous minutae of my life will resume in due course.