Just to make one thing quite clear: This blog is irrelevant.

Hope that’s alright, then. But, what’s this all about?

Yesterday I posted on The September Issue, a film about US Vogue and its editor, Anna Wintour. A reader commented:

‘Ho hum. A blog about a film about a magazine about an unreal narcissistic pseudo-world. Could this any less relevant?’ [sic]

I see his point (he is “Stevo the Working Twistie”). And I raise his point: not only was that post irrelevantish, this entire blog is irrelevant.

I do not, of course, speak for that other “unreal narcissistic pseudo-world”, Fashion (worth $300 billion a year in worldwide jobs and products).

Here is a semi-irrelevant aside. From the Marxist/Catholic/BritLitCrit Terry Eagleton:

‘[God is] every bit as gloriously pointless as [atheists] tells us he is. He is a kind of perpetual critique of instrumental reason.’

Right right, no, I’m not equating the contents of this blog with the mind of god. Or that anything one might read here approaches a critique of intrumental reason.

Why, some of my best friends are reasoning instruments.

Only that – all of the time, some kind of truth resides in beauty. And if much of the time it is hard to parse that truth, we can still feel sure of its presence.

Only that – what interests one is always relevant. (Dr Johnson: ‘no man is a hypocrite in his pleasures.’) But then again, we’ll never all agree on what’s of interest.

Only that – if we have an amiable conversation in pleasant surroundings, that is sufficient reason, if not of an instrumental kind…

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse—and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness—
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.

(Omar Khayyam, trans. Ed. FitzGerald)

Now, that’s glorious pointlessness. And I guess that’s quite enow.

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