I would like to write blog entries more often but I cannot really come up with subjects. In the average day I am sure I have thoughts which could be translated into an entry and some people might actually like to read but I don't keep a minute by minute diary of what is going on. I do not attach sufficient significance to the things I think to merit remembering them in half an hour, never mind when I get home.
The reaction to blogs seems to vary greatly I was informed by someone connected with the BBC and a Producer, that the only reason I blog is because I, like all other bloggers, have an over inflated opinion of the value of what I say and think. This struck me as being rather odd for someone who works in the mass media, unless of course his ego believes that his though opinions are for some reason worthy of public broadcast.
I've ever claimed that this blog was anything other than rambling. If it has any conscious purpose it so that in ten years I might be able to point to something and say look I'd thought that years ago. That might seem arrogant but I don't think , if it ever happens, the fact is going to be anything significant, I also don't think I will be unique in having the thought.
I believe most great ideas have been had many time before that make it big, and make someone rich or famous, they were had by lots of people like you and me, who either didn't know the value of them or couldn't make people see the point. Ideas spring up everywhere for random interactions, chance meetings and drunken ramblings. I doubt Einstein was the first to think of the mutability of time or Newton to conceive of gravity, they were simply the first people to have the ability to use the idea, to make sense of it.
Ideas are a product of society not individuals, we walk around bombarded by similar experiences, similar memes, an idea’s moment comes when enough of society has been made fertile to receive it, where the enough people daily lives provide them with the tools to comprehend it and see its value.Sitting on the edge of a cave, at the dawn of humanity, seeing the moon rise and the sun come up and wondering if all heavy objects attract each other and thinking that that attraction may explain the lights that move is the night sky, is a lonely place to be.