All the world’s a blog,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.

At first the infant, mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
‘Hello world! Welcome to Blogger.com. This is your first post. Edit or delete it and start blogging!
“Ooh er! I can’t think what to say, ‘scuse the spelling! My cat’s got worms.”

Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school.
“Sorry about the lack of posts. That bitch Clarissa dumped me, (more on that later) and then I had to re-do my Dissertation, and Mum used my computer to log onto Mumsnet and got a nasty virus……”

And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow.
“So while club football is almost over – Chelsea have done the double and Dundee crushed the hopes of the Highlands beating Ross County 3-0 in the Scottish Cup – and with at least a few weeks to go before the Football World Cup takes over the airwaves, we have a little, tiny, wee window in which to play our traditional summer sports.”

Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth.
“What the cu**ing fu*k does that shite Harman think she is up to?”
“String the bastards up, I say”
(Thanks English Warrior, ‘WTF’? Perfect comment – and my first too…..good to know someone is out there)

And then the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And so he plays his part.
I am not I, they are not they, and Coronation Street is not Inkerman Street. Coronation Street is, however, an ongoing paradigm, speculum humanae vitae, whose cobbles incorporate the Heideggerian necessity of existence. The street qua street is no thoroughfare, it has no beginning and no end, a Ding an sich leading nowhere, but with at its still centre the Rover’s, the bourne to which all travellers return. Birth, copulation and death revolve around the old gods: Ken, whose very name means ‘knowledge’, an aged Silenus set against the E wig-Weibliche, Deirdre of the Sorrows. The all-too-human plotlines are suffused with original sin – bodies remain in the concrete, love-children in others’ cradles, and the commercial proximity of kebabs and lingerie scarcely needs a Freud to interpret, nor need we speculate why the factory is called Underworld. The populating she-devils would grace a Mystery play!
Foucault once remarked. . .

(Sorry, my darling Puddlekins sat on the keyboard and pressed ‘publish’ before I had finished…)

The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side,
His youthful hose well sav’d, a world too wide,
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound.
This isn’t the end of an adventure, it’s the beginning. Thanks for entrusting your incredible family and friends to us, for reading along on this blog as you chanced by, and for standing with us these past few weeks. We look forward to telling you more stories. We are planning an event called ‘One Night for Peckham East’ on Sunday evening, September 12th where you will get a chance to hear and see for yourself the difference these wonderful people are making. Hope to see you there.

Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
This is my last post I’m fed up with the racist/homeophobic/gynophobic/personal/anti-semetic abuse. I’ve met a new man/woman I want to spend my evening with on a fur rug in front of the fire. I’ve said everything I’ve got to say and I’m fed up with circular arguments. I just want to say the Con-Dems are as shite as the Labour lot. I may be back under another name. I’ll leave the archive.

Post Script.
Thank-you for your kind comments. Wow! That’s the most comments I ever had – I had no idea that so many people were reading this blog; I’ve decided to resurrect it, posting will be sporadic while I have my hip replacement operation.
They’ll have to prise my cold dead hand off this keyboard……….

‘Tis a joke, OK? Anna is going nowhere…just mourning the loss of so many good Bloggers in recent weeks. Grumpy Old Twat went off to the great Blogyard in the Sky last night and several others who have not sounded the Last Post are conspicuous by their silence – its getting lonely out here!

Caedmon’s
Cat December 20, 2010 at 10:11

I have reason to believe that for each libertarian correct-wing blogger who
shuttles off his/her mortal keyboard, there’s another one ready to burst into
the blogosphere. This cycle of life will continue until Those Who Know Better
decide to block access to our blogsites and throttle free expression until it
turns purple and limp..
Some of us are just bitter and twisted – but we
conceal it behind a facade of civility and good manners. If I didn’t, I’d
catch hell from Caedmon – not to mention the Abbess Hilda. And she isn’t nice
when she’s angry…

LiveWire December 19, 2010 at 14:43

Some thoughts on the reason why blogging will probably continue.

They told me not to worry,
For Pangloss views apply.

We’ll build you all a windmill,
For temperatures are high.

You’re ruled by honest brokers,
With IQ’s in the sky.

Did I accept the message,
From pigs in gilded sty ?

Or did I pound the keyboard,
With anger in the eye…?

Dioclese December
18, 2010 at 20:39

Poetry corner
=========
When I first set hand to keyboard
I knew
not where ‘t would lead
But they’ll never stop me blogging
’till my
body’s cold and dead
(with Scots accent or it doesn’t
rhyme)
============
I lost some friends this winter
No not in ice or
snow
The buggers just stopped blogging
For reasons I don’t
know
============
So…
Farewell then…
Friends…
of the
blogosphere.
I did not know…
Who you were
But I guess…
You
did
Didn’t you?
(E.J.Thribb aged 13.75 years as featured in Private
Eye)

Smokey December 18, 2010 at 19:42

I know you guys don’t think lots of the Guardian, but you ought to read
this piece by George Monbiot:
http://www.monbiot.com/archives/2010/12/13/reclaim-the-cyber-commons/
I
think he is wrong characterising these “astroturfers” as right wing
libertarians, because there appear to be a lot of right-wing libertarians who
are targets for these trolls, as well as lefties.
Just because you are
paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t out to get you. Couldn’t work out how to get
a comment on Gotty, so hope you don’t mind me posting this here, sine you have
had your own troubles.
We’re all grit in the machine!!

Anna
Raccoon December 18, 2010 at
20:10

Thanks for that Smokey – an interesting article, and agreed, it would
seem that of late it is right wing libertarians who have been the
target.

robbiethered
December 18, 2010 at 13:32

Yes, i think it shouldn’t worry us too much if there’s a lull in things, I
think the trick is to keep going and not get bored if things go sadly quiet
for a while, there’s always new people finding yours or any website for that
matter, and newcomers will begin to appear.

Granville December 18, 2010 at 12:08

“They’ll have to prise my cold dead hand off this keyboard”.

If only we could entice the warm dancing fingers of Gotty back onto his
keyboard. Good to know you’ll be sticking around Anna.

JuliaM December
18, 2010 at 11:22

Excellent! And remarkably accurate too…

I wouldn’t read too much into the current crop of departures. It’s sad to
see good bloggers go, yes, but there’s new ones springing up and they may
blossom and grow. It’s the Blogging Circle of Life.. *cue Elton*

Katabasis December 19, 2010 at 17:00

Do you have any recommendations Julia? I could do with boosting the ranks
of my blogroll for my daily reads.

JuliaM December 20, 2010 at 10:47

Yup, the most recent additions to mine are The Grim Reaper Writes, Fuel
Injected Moose and The Raft Journal.

lenko December 18, 2010 at 10:58

Thank God it’s a joke — thought for one moment there that you were serious.
And I’m sorry to hear your news about GOT. Keep going Anna, don’t give up and
don’t let the buggers grind you down!

Anna
Raccoon December 18, 2010 at
11:09

Fear not Lenko, I ‘n I is goin’ nowhere……though at this rate I may be the
last ‘man’ left standing! Me an’ Subrosa anyway – stubborn old witches that
we are….

woodsy42
December 18, 2010 at 15:19

Over the years it has occured to me that in some circumstances women
have better staying power than men. Oh right, family blog, sorry.

Anna
Raccoon December 18, 2010 at
15:27

We often fake it though – the resilience and staying power I
mean……..we even manage to make it look as though we are enjoying
ourselves.

That Gildas Monk thingy better get back off extended holiday shortly
or I shall go on strike here.