The Worldwide Weblog of Donald Pincher

Blogged prose fiction by Joshua Gaskell


I am the WEBMASTER, and it is I that will be presenting to you, READER, the private journal of Donald Pincher, aspiring author. How I came to be possessed of it is no concern of yours. And in any case, if I did go about to tell you by what accident I obtained covert access to the file, it would in this unbelieving age pass for little more than the cant or jargon of the blogosphere. Suffice to say that he types Journal.doc on his computer (Windows ME) and, in his careless cyber-luddism, has left open a pathway vulnerable to exploitation by those of us who know the ways of data capture.
Pincher is a pious, small-c-conservative young fogey of the leftmost wing. He lives unfashionably in the London district of Forest Hill SE23, and devotes his life to writing entries in his Oxford Urban Dictionary, trying to find someone willing to publish his novel – five-hundred pages of relentless socialist manifesto masquerading as literature – and to being fruitlessly apoplectic about the price of things in the capital. A privacy obsessive, much of his novel consists of (in equal measure) decrying the dangers of the internet age, and mocking its pretentions. Which is why I thought it would be funny for him to write his own blog, even if it is one that he doesn’t know he’s writing.
Though the automatic-upload macro I’ve attached to Pincher’s journal makes me something of a deistical Prime Mover, I will occasionally deign to intervene in ‘the cool of the day’ (to footnote, to hyperlink, to tag, or otherwise curate). To this end you will know me by my dark-blue font.
Without further ado, I present to you what I’ve chosen to dub, in the idiom of its unwitting BLOGGER, The Worldwide Weblog of Donald Pincher

Tuesday, 16th September 2014

Tax avoidance, n.

Pronunciation: /tæks əvɔɪdəns/
Etymology: tax n. + avoidance n.

The arrangement of financial affairs so as to reduce tax liability within the law; (hence shurely, by extension) not earning any money in the first place.

Monday, 15th September 2014

A study of seven hundred and five laptop keyboards has revealed that, as a result of what I call ‘wordpress’ – the new-fangled fashion for running two words into one (hashtags, for example, and the barbarisms that accompany them) – the satisfying patinas on aged space bars are gradually becoming duller.

Friday, 5th September 2014

Perusing as is my wont, I am astonished to discover that of the thirteen ‘Common Misspellings’ I listed in January, every one of them has since been silently corrected. And not sic’d either but actually retyped, showing that they were indeed typos: ‘her curiousity’ is now ‘her curiosity’, ‘occurs immediatly’ is ‘occurs immediately’, etc. It’s almost as if the editors of the OED have seen my private journal, but that’s impossible.


How, ahem, bizzare.

Thursday, 4th September 2014

Part-way through last night’s Channel 4 News, I was excited to see the message, ‘Channel 4 presents a UK advertising premiere’. What followed was a long-awaited/creative/artistic/amaazing/etc. (fifty-second) film about some perfume. To get a prestigious première of that kind is a major coup – I’m surprised it wasn’t a Radio Times Choice.

Wednesday, 3rd September 2014

Russell Brand and his Trews have been notorious for years:

Trews, n.

Pronunciation: /truːz/
Etymology: Origin uncertain and disputed; either < Irish trius, Gaelic triubhas, or a pun on true adj. + news n.

1. True news, i.e. Trews is like the news, if the news was true.
2. With pl. concord. Close-fitting trousers, including those worn by women.


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