Great Scotland Yard!

First, let me apologize to my nonexistent readers for not posting anything for a full month. I could explain by saying that I've been busy. While this is true, it's probably more accurate to say that my work load and wandering attention have nullified my attempts to update during the day. It is only with great effort that I can now come back to the blog and update. And who knows when I can update again?

So with apologies out of the way, let me relate my latest revelation. Quite simply, my soul does not exist in this day and time. I am not a product of late 20th Century Virginia. Apparently, my soul was created specifically for London, circa 1888. The evidence for this is as follows:

1. I am an Anglophile. If it's British, odds are I like it already.

2. I smoke a pipe on occasion. Usually in celebration of something, like getting a date finishing another successful semester.

3. Thanks to Youtube videos and the rest of the Internet, I have a strong desire to start shaving with a straight razor. The kind that you'd get from the barber when they'd also leech you. Unfortunately, I will have to wait until I can afford a decent razor and all the necessary supplies - strops, a brush, shaving soap, etc. (ahem, Christmas idea, anyone?)

4. I have read G. K. Chesterton.

5. I have a variety of hats, most notably a leather driving cap and a gray fedora. The driving cap goes particularly well with the car coat that my Dad got me my freshman year, which I still wear to this day.

Maybe this explains my love for the Back to the Future films. I always thought it would be cool to travel back in time, but I never knew how I'd use it, exactly. Now it's clear, I would take my DeLorean back to late 1800's London and get Victorian on everyone's ass. I'd probably blend right in with folks like Hilaire Belloc at the Blackfriar Pub.

Furthermore, I'd even have knowledge of the future. Perhaps I'd even be able to solve the mystery of Jack the Ripper. Yeah, I could use magical powers of foresight (read: Wikipedia) to change the future forever. But what would be the consequences? I'm not even talking about the big-picture effects either, like eventually killing Hitler prematurely and totally averting World War II. I'm thinking something like, what if I get cholera or something? It sure would suck to catch a horrible disease that has what I consider a simple cure.

I guess that in the meantime, while I wait for a time machine that will never come, I'll just have to settle for trying to resurrect the past in my own way - By changing the way I dress, act, read, and speak. Actually, screw that. That means I'd have to stop listening to all my music, and I'd probably go insane if I couldn't listen to New Order anymore. I guess I'll do what everyone does - adopt some trends from yesteryear and call myself "vintage." The thing is, when I say I'm borrowing from the 70's or 80's I could very well mean the 19th century. Now excuse me whilst I attend to my leeches.