When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one blogger to admit that he is a lazy and worthless lump of organic matter and dissolve his iron-fisted control over a once-promising blog that has fallen fallow, a decent respect to the opinions of bloggerkind requires that he should declare the causes which impel him to the dissolution.
One afternoon, as I sat around indulging my laziness and worthlessness, the idea for Philofaxy struck me. Filofax is sorely underrepresented in the world of bloggery. Moleskines, you can't escape. Temples to the cult of Franklin Covey litter the landscape. Pocket planners with gilt-edge pages sold near the checkout at Barnes and Noble may be more widely discussed.
(Plus, come on: Philofaxy is a really cool name for a blog. With a name that cool, its existence was inevitable.)
So I delivered Philofaxy unto the world. And a small but devoted crew of fellow Filofaxers took notice. And we cavorted in the fields of Philofaxy, and I pretended not to be a lazy and worthless lump.
But the truth has a way of revealing itself. It can no longer be disputed: I am lazy and worthless, and fully incapable of maintaining a blog devoted to a rich subject like the love of Filofax on my own.
One fine television-soaked day, an e-mail arrived in my in-box from a devoted but disappointed Filofaxer. She accused me of being lazy and worthless, and I said, HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT, and she said, WELL, YOU DESERVE IT, and I said: FINE. DO YOU WANT TO JOIN PHILOFAXY? And she said: FINE. YES.
At least that's how I remember it. But, in fact, I'm pretty sure it didn't go anything like that at all. Except for the parts about Nan contacting me, rousing my from my listless state, and raising the possibility of Philofaxy's resurrection. It quickly became apparent to me that Nan would be a huge boon to Philofaxy.
Nan's been chomping at the bit to Philofaxize, and I will leave it to her to offer her thoughts. As I discovered when I started this blog, Nan and I are not the only ones out there who love Filofax. There are others. Many of them found their way here. Many of them have surely left, thanks to my laziness and worthlessness. It is time to return. It is a new era.
There's no plan. There's no written constitution. There are no articles of confederation, incorporation, or faith. We're going to wing it, like the schizo-nutso-bizarro Filofax-users we are.
Now, I have some TV to watch and a sofa to imprint with the contours of my buttocks.