No, I’m not writing an open letter to you, my usage of ‘Dear Matt’ was just a figure of speech.
Dear, dear Matt.
The other day while emptying the massive pile of s… pam in my blog’s spam folder, I received this message from WordPress.
Dear Matt. Oh dear. Dear, oh dear, oh tut!
Did you know that you were being ‘probably’ blamed for everything.
Don’t worry, I turned things off and then on again and fixed the problem. I am tech enabled!
This amusing missive reminded me of a time to which even the tardis might have trouble traveling.
When I was about 14 years old, during a Summer holiday on an island in the Sun, I was with some people…
I’d call those people friends, but that would be taking creative license a bit too far (and I’ve already used most of that rope in linking this post to this particular challenge)…
… especially as one of those people was my mother. She may have seen our relationship as being ‘from mother and daughter to friends’, but considering all the other tall tales she liked to tell which caused technical difficulties for anyone who allowed her verbal virus to enter their ears and worm its way into their mind altering the functioning of reality… I trust my view of things rather than hers. Her truth was always WAY out there!
Among the people in this Summer holiday group was a woman who was extraordinarily gifted in the accident-prone department. Her stories of how simple things turned into a scene from a slapstick comedy were legendary in her social circle in a cringeworthy yet relief-inducing (as in I’m glad I’m not her and wasn’t there when it happened) manner.
After relating one of her repertory of misadventures, the conversation turned, as it so often does, off the main road onto a tangent. We all got a bit lost and ended up in a strange little village of an idea which was only for local people.
The idea was simple – each day we would pick one person to blame for everything. Whatever happened was their fault, even if nothing happened… that was their fault too. We’d all take turns, no one would be exempt. Those who did not want to participate, could not participate – if they didn’t want to be blamed, then they could not pass the buck of blame either.
This was just a bit of fun, intended not to be taken seriously. No one was really being blamed for anything. The idea had grown out of noticing how much time gets wasted on finding fault and someone to blame when things go wrong, with no one being willing to accept blame, own up their part in things (because things are often not just one person’s fault), but being more than willing to waste hours pointing fingers at others and presenting biased opinion as fact.
This kind of situation ruins things like a fun for everyone. Except for those who consider fault-finding in others fun. Or those who masochistically think everything is their fault even when it is obviously not their fault. They may think that doing this solves the problem caused by the blame game, but it doesn’t. In some cases compulsive confessors to crimes obstruct justice and make finding the true root of a problem far harder, which can make fixing it an impossi-puzzle. Not everything is as straightforward as Cock Robin.
Since we were………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Please stand by, we’ve just been notified of a problem and are experiencing human related technical difficulties (it’s probably Matt’s fault). We’ll (me’ll) try to fix things ASAP.
Writing of this post has been interrupted by a stranger who stopped their car on the busy road near my house, causing a honk-a-thon, to scream bloody murder into the airwaves because they are lost… or their destination may just be hiding from them.
From what I can gather, the temper tantrum is an offering for the sake of Fuck.
People get lost around here so regularly that I’ve been looking out for polar bears and smoke monsters in the woods.
Don’t bother relying on your GPS in these here parts. No, it’s not purgatory… but there are strange forces whose conditions apply completely illogically.
It’s probably Matt’s fault.
Don’t bother reloading in a minute, things will not be back to normal, not your version of normal anyway. Turning it off and on again means you’ll probably lose your signal, good luck trying to find it again, you may end up having to make an offering for the sake of Fuck.
Problem sorted. Or at least lost guy has driven off to get lost elsewhere.
So, where was I before I was distracted? Is this distraction irrevocable? Can I blame that on Matt too?
In summation, that experiment conducted by me and some people ended up in disaster. One of those who agreed to play along – with a stupid idea which could only be verified as stupid once it had been tried out (we learn by doing and platitudes like that) – enjoyed the days in which the blame lay with others, but on their day to be blamed things went awry. They fell off of their flip-flop while walking down a steep hill, sprained their ankle and the ensuing drama caused our version of the blame game to be called off.
And no, it wasn’t the accident-prone woman to whom this happened. However, according to her, her powers of keystone cop clumsy occasionally infected those in her vicinity.
So who was to blame?
You can’t really blame someone for falling off their flip-flop and damaging their body, especially when their eyes leak water which dampens the fiery spirit of funny and they look at you as though somehow it is all your fault, even if it isn’t.
If I’d known about Matt then, all of that could have been avoided.
However I would hazard a guess that the Matt whose purpose in life is to shoulder the mantle of probable blame (wearing that mantle like Superman’s cape) is Matt Mullenweg (Mr. WordPress – that’s his super-name), therefore he was not born at that time… although he may have been in the twinkle-in-the-eye phase of creation. But twinkles can’t be blamed for things, can they?
Mind you, he is a Capricorn… they (we) get blamed for everything, don’t they (we)? The scapeGOAT of the zodiac!
Recently I’ve decided to play another type of blame game. It’s Summertime and it just seemed an appropriate moment to have an idea and test it out to see if it is good, bad, or meh.
I’m now accepting the fault for anything good which happens. Not taking credit for it. There is a subtle difference. Subtleties are vital technicalities.
So if someone says – Oooh, the Sun is out today! – I reply with – Yeah, sorry about that, it’s all my fault!
It’s silly, I know (or I think I may know). But the past couple of years have been rather serious in the household of my head and I’ve been coming down hard on myself, not sure which hemisphere is doing what but they both seem to meet in the middle and agree that stuff is my fault and I have no clue as to how to fix it because the fixes may cause more internal fault-finding missions and stuff like that.
My rather muddled brain decided to use its usual muddle to flip things around and make – it’s probably my fault – into something positive rather than something which smacks of being negative.
Turn that frown upside down… into a smile which looks like an upside down frown because the eyes are on the bottom and the chin is on top.
This experiment may go horribly wrong, but thanks to WordPress, I now have someone else with which to share the probable blame. Or I can shift it onto to him entirely and go about my merry way.
Isn’t that what servers are for, to serve… whatever service we need?
Life is full of random humour… while searching for – IT Crowd Jen Internet – I received the message below.
That’s rather vague. And rather strange… that for once I know more about things than Google.
Dear Google, don’t worry…
It’s probably Matt’s fault!