Proofreading

If anyone caught the fact that an infinitely more tallented blogger quoted me a week or so back, you probably also caught the fact that he immortalized one of my typos that history will now be able to judge me for. I can fix typos on my own blog, but once they go to another blog, they're out of my hands. The elaborate illusion of writing tallent that I've been cultivating all these years is going to come crashing down on me because of this. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday it's going to come back to haunt me.

I am of course assuming that in three hundred years there will be a specialized field of internet archaeology that will dig through ancient servers unearthing blogs of days gone by, and this blog will be first and foremost among them after they've pried it from my long-dead hands (unless I live my dream of transplanting my brain into robot so I may live eternal encased in cold, unfeeling, unforgiving steel and wreak mayhem upon those who still dwell in flesh - but I digress). I'm sure that these historoblogologists will consider me to be a visionary, a genius years ahead of my time, and the great tragedy of my life will be that I died in obscurity centuries before my brilliance was understood (excluding that whole cyborg plan, of course). My work will be put in hardcover books and made mandatory reading for schoolchildren. I'll be enshrined beside Socrates, Plato, and the other great fathers of modern discourse. Statues of me will be built of bronze. Then of course they'll read Rob's blog and realize that I made typographical errors and that I was nothing more than a talentless, self-serving hack with poor keyboarding skills. I'll be cursed as a fraud my books will be burned and my statues torn down. I'll be cut out of the history books except for a brief footnote stating that I lived without note and died alone which was more than I deserved.

Unless of course I succeeded in this whole cyborg venture, in which case I'll be hailed as the great and terrible machine-lord of all the earth.

[Edit]
Ok, so apparently Rob fixed the typo for me sometime between when I first saw it and when I wrote this post, and that has seriously fucked this whole adventure up. My post really doesn't make any sense anymore.

God damn you, Rob! Did you even think for a second that I wanted to weave an elaborate fantasy detailing my post-humous rise and fall from fame based on your posting of one of my typos? No, you didn't, because you're an inconsiderate asshole. I had cyborgs in there, man! Cyborgs! You know I don't write about cyborgs unless I'm writing from the heart.

Dear Readers, if you have learned anything from this it's that you should always proofread your work. It prevents you from concocting elaborate stories centering around typographical errors only to have your asshole friends correct you out of courtesy and totally fuck up your blog post. Also, if you're going to blog about a typo, you should check that it hasn't been fixed before you get into a serious cyborg rant.

It should be pretty obvious at this point that I don't proofread for shit. I don't even use a spell checker. Sometimes I don't even read what I've written to make sure it's not crap. If I did, you wouldn't have had the privilege to read that cyborg rant a few paragraphs back.