And now I've corrected the date on that first post (and, while I was at it, corrected a typo) so that everything is neater, but the first sentence of the second post now makes no sense whatsoever.
But it doesn't matter, of course. This is the wonder of postmodernism; a work of art (ooooh, he's calling it art, missus) no longer needs to be about anything. It's enough to be about itself. This is why Paris Hilton defines the modern condition, when she's not sucking the penis of a married man, of course.
So this blog needn't be about anything, but it ought to be for something.
Any ideas, please let me know.