Summer's End...

Ten years ago, I started this blog with a flurry of pointless posts over a few days, never really quite figuring out exactly why I had decided to begin a blog in the first place. A decade later, I still haven't nailed that down. What did I hope to accomplish with this thing? I never had a clear idea, other than just wanting my own blog, which I suppose is reason enough. Over the years, The Book Of Lies became a repository for terrible podcasts destined to be listened to by nobody, terrible YouTube videos destined to be watched by nobody, and even current movie reviews destined to be read by nobody, before finally, bizarrely settling into it's most recent state, being a blog dedicated to reviews of mediocre made-for-television holiday movies.

That was never my intention. None of this was ever my intention. I just wanted to use this neglected little corner of the world-wide web to do whatever happened to catch my fancy at any given time. Sure, I always had ideas to do other things here, but for whatever reason I just never found the time or the motivation to do those things. For instance, earlier this year I had originally planned to return to this blog for a short series of Schlock-Mas In July reviews, but life, as it stubbornly tends to do, got in the way.

Back in April, on Easter Sunday, in fact, I underwent major, life-saving surgery because my large intestine decided to basically explode in my abdominal cavity. The road to recovery has been rather long and difficult, and I'm actually checking back into the hospital today for another major surgery that will hopefully fix what's wrong with my guts and finally allow me to put this extended nightmare behind me once and for all. But this surgery will temporarily return me to the same physical state where I was when I woke up in the early morning hours of April 22nd, weak as a kitten with my abdomen being held together by a shit-ton of medical staples and a week-long hospital stay ahead of me.

I don't know how I'm going to be feeling in two weeks or two months, so I don't know when I'm going to be able to actually return to this blog, Dear Imaginary Reader. I know you're incredibly distressed by this tragic news, but it's the truth. I know I would like to continue my Schlock-Mas series this December, but I doubt I'll be able to keep up the pace required to publish twenty-five reviews in twenty-five days, so I think my current goal is to return to the format of my first year of this series with only twelve reviews, as that sounds more manageable at the moment. Of course, there's a chance that I might not even be able to accomplish that much, but I will publish at least a handful of reviews this holiday season.

Unless I don't survive the surgery, in which case all of this idle planning will be completely moot. But statistically speaking, I'm probably not going to die in surgery, so I'm probably going to be back here in December, watching terrible Hallmark Channel movies and bitching about it on this blog for the amusement of precisely nobody, myself included.

At some point between now and December, I will return to provide an update on my holiday plans, but until then, I've got an appointment with a scalpel to keep, so I must bid you a fond farewell for now, boils and ghouls. Here's to ten years of utterly meaningless drivel, and I'll see you on the other side.