Hiatus Here. Nyah.

Being an Evolutionary Biologist (kind of) is great and all, but there are some small things that get to you. Most things people think that Evolutionary Biology implies, such as killing your neighbours for fun and burning effigies of Jesus, it doesn't really, but occasionaly one or two of the more awkward bits slip through into your mind. It is the case, for example, that Evolution implies an awful lot of suffering on behalf of the animals of the World, although, as anyone who's spent any time studying the animals of the World will testify, there's an awful lot of suffering no matter what you believe. What bothers me more is this: Most things fail. While I was on Holiday back in Aberdeen (Which, given I haven't posted in eight days, which I'll get to, you might not actualy know about, but hey), I saw a book with this very title, and it got me thinking depressing thoughts. I had a project to buy it, but you know how these things go. Far from being the Survival of the Fittest, Evolution is more the Survival of the least Rubbish: Your bicycle might only have one wheel, but you'll still win the race if everyone else is riding a bicycle with no wheels. Unless everyone ran past you, which they would. Anyway. The idea is important in Blogs, which I was trying to get to in a more torturous way than usual.

Most Blogs fail. And I thought Bloglodytes had, for a while: It's been some time, after all, and my constant state of being exhausted seems to be becoming an accelerating state of being exhausted, especialy as the weeks wear on and the idea that I have to learn all these Latin names for things that would kill me begins to sink in. My first four blogs all failed. My friends blogs, as far as I know, never update anymore, even the really good one with the 3500 word post about how all stages of life are rubbish, and leave me alone. Even Gay at Edinburgh never made it past two posts, which is a crying shame. I wasn't sure what hope little old this had.

But I do now. I was round at my friend's house on Sunday, and it all suddenly seemed worthwhile. My friend's family, see, all appear to have become regular readers without me realising, and they were demanding to know where all the updating went (and, true, if I hadn't been exhausted there'd have been a great story here, involving lots of broken glass and the French language). I was amazed, and happy.

So I was too tired to Blog, but I'm not now, because people actualy read it. That took three long paragraphs to say. I'd be more concise, but I'd probably fail. Hard life, is Evolutionary Biology.