Lyndon Hood - relativist, Lower Hutt
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
That happened when I discovered that I'm related to Aaron Bhatnagar.
Explosions, flames, running for cover, the lot.
For those who didn't follow the controversy, or who tried to and failed, Aaron and I had words late last year. Then Dog Biting Men, with some success, tried to bring other local bloggers into the ruckus and wrote a post about the results.
They muddied the issue by attempting, to the confusion of Russell Brown, to perpetuate the rumour that I am in fact Matt Nippert.
Ironic, considering that I'm actually MediaCow.
Anyway, Random Contributionz and About Town wrote about that, and so the great cycle continued. A minor controversy slowly dissolved and added to the fertile mush which nourishes a few tall trees, a couple of levels of sub-canopy, a bunch of highly specialised insects and a quite staggering number of singles-celled yeasts and bacteria. Which is as good an analogy for the blogosphere as any.
And now it turns out that Aaron and I share a set of great-grandparents, Robert and Rosina Preston. It's been pointed out to me that the technical term for this relationship is 'cuzzies' (I understand that the 'bro' is not required in this instance).
I was vaguely aware that my mother's cousin had married a very rich Indian bloke, so I suppose I could have worked out Aaron was their sprog. But basically the whole state of affairs seems highly unjust and I can't quite work out who to blame. I mean, It can't be my parent's fault.
Incidentally, Aaron's homepage is currently playing a MIDI version of the theme to The Benny Hill Show, for those of you who want to listen to it.
I feel the urge - heaven knows why - to emphasise that ours is not really that close a relationship. For example, as far as the classic genetic markers go, we share neither mitochondrial DNA nor a Y chromosome. And if we were inclined, we would easily be allowed to have a civil union.
Although if I show any signs of actually doing so, readers are encouraged to prevent me by whatever means come to hand.
Bearing in mind that neutralising Aaron will be equally effective.
I thought at the time that our little bitchfight was hampered by a couple of things. One was that we knew very little about each other*. Aaron - I can only speculate as to why - specifically mentioned that he had never met and I'm guessing he hasn't read much Fighting Talk either. So all he could muster in the way of cutting me to the quick was to call me unfunny and (I'm not sure about this one - it might just be that he chooses certain kinds of image without conscious intent) casting aspersions on my sexuality.
I, on the other hand, said he was a right-wing wanker. Which, let's face it, is hardly an original sentiment.
Well, we know something about each other now, don't we, cuzzie.
Naturally, since our set-to I've stored up any amount of esprit d'escalier** to direct against Aaron but the time has passed. And with this news, I'm glad I didn't do anything really low, like making fun of his name (I mean: 'Aaron').
It's terrible when families fall out so from now on I promise from now on I won't say anything offensive about the man unless I think it's true.
* Another was his inability to understand irony.
Work in Progress: If anyone read my previous post, I've just decided that it would be more pointed and fractionally more amusing to read 'intimidation' rather than 'violence' for 'liberty' in Bush's inauguration speech. Hopefully by now I will have updated it.
Or, for real satire, I recently came across Jonathan Swift's piece against abolishing Christianity. It's full title: An argument to prove that the abolishing of Christianity in England may, as things now stand, be attended with some inconveniences, and perhaps not produce those many good effects proposed thereby. If you get confused, Aaron, just ask Simon or David to explain it to you.
