‘Justify your existence, Infallible Plankton.'
‘I don’t have to; I’m infallible.’
‘Actually, you’re not really infallible. You’re only infallible in a comical, ironic sense.'
‘Oh yeah Einstein? Well then how come I’ve never been eaten by a whale?’
‘Because you’re not actually plankton either. That’s just a word in your title.’
‘Right, sure, next you’re going to tell me that Sea Monkeys aren’t really monkeys at all.’
‘They aren’t.’
‘Crap.’

This is the conversation I have with my blog every second Monday, when I remember it exists. I should have given it an essence before I gave it an existence, then it would be able to write itself. But it has no essence. Always a problem. Infallible Plankton needs direction, a raison d’être (translation: a raisin for being). Well, “need” is an overstatement. It is better to say that it would be better if it had a focus, or even foci, or even uneven foci. But it will probably always be purposeless (and porpoiseless). This is fine. Actually, it has a purpose of a kind.

When IP was born (a small squeaky sound was heard), my purpose was just to practice writing, since I had recently declared that my third (and hopefully last) attempted major would be English. And English majors are sometimes required to write, or so I was told after I sang my first essay to my teacher. So, in that sense, it is doing what it is supposed to do. Furtherbore, this is a good reason for anyone to write, no matter how crushingly nonsensical his or her writing might be. Writing is improved by practice. There is even research that supports the view that text messaging and instant messaging boon writing, despite their haphazard punctuation and bastardized spelling. Language is important (and not only because it rhymes with sandwich). So write wrong, because any writing is better than no writing.