This is my blog. It is a thing that I have done.

Percy Shelley commented quite eloquently on the futility of the hubris of Ramses. A man who conquered the world (one of many, never believe otherwise) at such a young age and had the time to build his empire, educate his elite, construct monuments the likes of which the world had never seen and amass riches beyond the wildest dreams of many eventually fell into obscurity, albeit a romanticized one. It was this lesson that kept me from acting throughout my life. There is a degree of futility in all actions, no matter how important; the doctor's patient will eventually die, the lawyers arguments will be overturned and even the philosopher's logic will be broken by the weight of time. That, I think, is what kept me from creating a Web Log of events in my life. There also exists the problem of subject matter (Do I list occurrences in my life? Shall I engage in the creation of fictitious events? Is it a soap box or a stage?) as well as the time investment, but those are easily overcome. The futility, the lack of impact in my writing is what stopped me.

I've decided to respectfully disagree with Mr. Shelley. Nothing beside may remain, but neither will I. My own mortality is of no consequence, but as I use the relatively little time given to my by the marvels of nature I don't wish to hopelessly meander through an uneventful life without accomplishments. I wish to look upon my own works and say with pride, "I alone have accomplished this. There may have been others before, there will certainly be others after, but for now this, alone among all things, has be wrought by my hands". This is my blog. It is a thing that I have done.