what’s all this bernie ecclescake and max moselyshoals nonsense about I thought planks of wood and sports day debacles were the pinnacle of duh but we’re facing the prospect of all drivers having to buy their engines from argos for less than 17 quid and are not allowed to go to the toilet before a race or something. I’m sure I used to watch ayrton senna blasting round estoril with james hunt and murray walker falling over their own hyperbolics while I got through 20 marlboro and 12 packets of monster munch and I actually quite enjoyed it but now it seems that I have as much fun tuning into (or, god forbid, turning up to) a formula bun fight as I do getting the longest queue in tescos and getting out first. really. is there anything less exciting to do with a sunday afternoon than watch 23 year old billionaires practice their drive to the golf club yes I know its still actually dangerous and its actually still highly skilled and its actually a feat of human endurance and its actually a technological miracle but then so is trying to keep up with blog posting. and I can’t really tell which is less interesting.
the problem is they are equally compelling for a reason I can’t quite fathom and more or less constitute a waste of a couple hours of your life when you really should have been doing something more effective instead like a user interaction specification or clearing leaves from the garden but in the end you just quietly slip back to them like some horrible dark secret in the cupboard from a stephen king novel. which is why I’m writing this. about that. you see?