Nearly a year ago Steve and I promised that setting fire to
the rain Lifting Fog meant we’d never return to look at the ash heap, let alone try and build something new overtop. But you’re an adult now who’s seen the world bleakly naked — you should know that promises are shallow. And reboots? They are all the rage! Welcome, one and all, to Lifting Fog 2.0*.
*which for continuity’s sake will look exactly like the retroactively named Lifting Fog 1.0
Our “retirement” last spring was premature (unlike so many of the other affectations here, which are committed precisely on time). I mean, you convince yourself that saying something out loud makes it true. “Seriously dude, I’m over that chick.” “I’ve tamed my alcoholism.” And so on. But it’s rarely if ever the case. You don’t control when you’re done with something; something controls when it’s done with you.
Or, more briefly: Lifting Fog is an addiction from which I’m not sure I will ever truly recover.
There are no delusions with this post that some heretofore untapped inspirational force will change the way business has always been done here (shoddily, and on “island time”). You know the drill: blog spurts every five or so weeks puncturing what is otherwise just digital silence, and a strong hint that Henning (me!) is having at least a mild nervous breakdown in-between. Socrates tells us to know thyself, right? DONE.
But you know what? We’re not going to unnecessarily pressure ourselves to blog to a schedule no one cares about, or even to blog well. Fuck that! We’re not going to write another apology post, because no amount of contrition at this point is going to get us into Heaven. We ARE gonna have some fun. And we’re going to continue to learn about each other, and the world around us, the only way we know how: via computer.
That sound you hear is Steve forever losing independent control of his eyes, which he’s rolled too far in the back of his head. But that’s Lifting Fog. We make you feel things you don’t even want to feel.