Welcome to the new kids on the blogging block. 

Well, when one says "kids" one is being euphemistic, at least as far as Vic Calleja is concerned.  We have been involved in writing not many miles apart since the days when we used to produce some stuff at University and Vic has the distinction of being the first to twig that I M Beck - he phoned at about 10am on the first Thursday of publication to point the finger at me.

To be fair, he admitted that it was his missus who had actually identified me, her academic prowess having equipped her to recognise my style, such as it is, even some thirteen or so years down the line.

I wonder if my new colleagues will have to put up with the same afflictions as I, namely those denizens of the commenting classes who seem to have this strange idea that they know it all and that their right to have an opinion has as an unfriable adjunct the right to express it, however insolent, misguided or downright inane it may be.

Some of my interlocutors, of course, inhabit Lil'Elfdom, and it is to them that I dedicate the bulk of my efforts, annoying them being so much fun.  One in particular, whose grasp of the twin attributes of logic and language are not as strong as he tries (sic) to make out, has a personal axe to grind with me that supervenes the merely political, though since I ignore him completely, I'm starting to wonder whether he shouldn't do something about this fascination I seem to hold for him.

I wonder if it isn't time to start a debate about whether comments should continue to be given such ventilation.  Leave aside political debate, because there comments serve a purpose.   But do we have to have assorted citizens giving us the benefit of their stupidity, every time there's a news story about a car crash or a court sitting or whatever?