The Nuclear Porcupine

A note on the origins and title of this blog--

As a simple Google search demonstrates, there are several genuine Gern Blanstons out there--
I plucked the name from an obscure Steve Martin routine off the vinyl issue of Comedy is Not Pretty. Despite my apparent misspelling and a possibly fictitious controversy over Martin's use of the name, I used it simply to send a veiled signal that I hail from a sarcastic segment of what was once termed "the Nowhere Generation".

We are too old to be Xers and too young to have participated in the sixties unless our parents dragged us. We grew up in the 70s and watched the hippies turn a genuine revolution into a coke-addled polyester nightmare of disco and yuppies and the me generation, resulting in Reagan's election in 1980...and we've seen how that worked out.

Of course, that is a lot of detail that matters not at all, so long as the writing holds up.

But I originally planned to call this Blog The Nuclear Porcupine, because that's how my hypertrophied misanthropy frequently makes me feel...completely toxic and unhuggable.

Just sayin'.