I've been watching this site. Watching things is pretty much my main pastime, living as I do on the Moon. Don't get me wrong; I like it here. Plenty of solitude. No smog, or even air to speak of. Except inside the Blue City's forcefield dome, of course. Even though I'm more or less immortal, I still need to breath from time to time, otherwise I go into a kind of catatonic trance--which curtails my watching activities.
The forcefield keeps the moon dust out, too. Some days, when the forcefield breaks down, I have to completely give up my watching activities, so occupied do I become between holding my breath and dusting things off. Luckily, the infrastructure doesn't break down very often. When it does, I have to call the Skrull repair crew, who often have to come from the other side of the Galaxy, leaving me to hold my breath for a very long time.
Anyhoo, I just wanted to say how much I enjoy all this blogging business. Used to be, I had to watch things through my special Chromaton Telescope. The Cretaceous period was one of my favourites, but more for the spectacular ferns than the dinosaurs and such. Then satellite TV came along, and I got hooked on reruns of Mork and Mindy and Fame. Now, high-speed internet access gives me a world of distractions, literally at my fingertips, and I can go weeks without even venturing past the front airlock of my abode at X-117B Vibranium Lane. A watcher never had is so good!
With the explosion of the whole Blog phenomenon, I can gain access to the private lives of strangers in a way I would never have imagined possible a mere millennia or two ago. Oddly enough, out of all the hundreds of thousands of blogs offering themselves to my parusal, I have grown a particular fondness for a certain Fakiegrind, and it's affiliates. Nothing makes my day more than waking up to read what new inanities the half-cracked brain of Flatlander and the Agents have seen fit to post. I find that in some strange, mystical way, the entire rest of the cosmos is wondrously reflected in the seemingly trivial themes that Fakiegrind often alights upon in its nearly daily postings. Heck, I've even stopped watching CNN and the Galactic Broadcast Networks Prime Meridian report!
So, I was greatly distressed to encounter what seems to be the latest of Flatlander's harebrained schemes to quit the blog. Employing the bold ruse of the Fakie Agent Relocation Program at first seemed to be merely another of Flatlander's clever jokes, but several days have elapsed without word from the Fakiegrind administrator and it seems that he might be trying to push this ploy to the limit, perhaps in some kind of desperate attempt to glean more attention and comments from readers.
I seem to recall that this gambit has worked in the past, eliciting kind words and commentary from quarters not normally heard from on this page, and warm farewells from such Fakiegrind regulars as the sentient automatons at Roboshrub Inc. However, like the fabled boy who cried wolf, Flatlander may have played this card one too many times, as public response to this last episode of attempted blogicide has been less than overwhelming.
At any rate, I hope that Flatlander will reconsider this new turn his blog has taken, and find some ingenious way to write himself back into the story-line. The secret agent setting off on bold new adventures image is all well and good, but he has a responsibility to his readers to keep them posted on the movements of such sinister world players as the Xister and the enigmatic Adjuster (or "Maladjuster", or whatever he's calling himself these days). Also, there's the Black Cheddar Consortium who have been too quiet for comfort as of late, and Captain Canuck doesn't seem to have returned from his mission to Baffin Island to investigate alleged UFO sightings. Deep cover is no excuse! My code of ethics as one of the Immortals forbids me from entering directly into the affairs of mortals, and I would hate to loose my Galactic Parking Privileges over this issue. So what I'm saying is, DON'T MAKE ME STEP IN AND INTERFERE WITH THE BLOG BY MAKING AN ACTUAL POST!
Wait a minute. Oh crap--they're towing my hovercar! Hey, cut that out! Do you know who I am? By Blackbolt's vocal chords, I'm the Watcher! You'll be hearing from my lawyer. Somebody get Birdman on the phone!
Uatu (The Watcher)
Blue City, The Moon