A blog is a sort-of place where people write down their thoughts and then influence the world. I have been blogging for over seven years, intermittently, as we all do everything, being the multifunctional beings that we are. As yet, however, I do not feel I have enacted any particular global change, and I think this might be because I have never really had any clear objectives in that area. Therefore, my demands are:

1. Less wars. I don't know how many wars there currently are, but it always feels like too many. I didn't have a specific number in mind. Maybe zero? Lennon said 'give peace a chance'. But that's not the same as saying 'There should only be peace'. I mean, I gave Lost a chance, but I watched other TV programmes as well. Plus, if you say that we're going to stop all wars, but you overshoot, you're in danger of owing some people some war. So perhaps we should just aim to keep a few. Like maybe four? Four wars? That sound manageable, and pleasing. If shutting down the others proves difficult, we could just merge a few together. Is there really a need for separate insurgencies in Laos, Chechnya AND Yemen?

2. Something to be done about the environment/the banks/this oven (whichever is easier).

3. Smoking to be made more ridiculous. Cigarettes should be increased in diameter so they require two hands to hold. They should have a sad whistle built in which plays every time someone inhales. Would expect to see less smoking in films (whistle obscures dialogue, takes attention away from plot) and by musicians (to cumbersome to also hold instrument or play with hair).

4. Drinks to change temperature in the same direction when left in a room. Either hot drinks should get hotter or cold drinks should get colder, but the current system is an absolute mess and I can't believe we've tolerated it.

5. An end to 'less is more', and full reinstatement of 'more' to the role of 'more'.

6. You don't see many herons these days, do you? I'm not sure this is a demand, so much as an observation. A demand would be more along the lines of: I have to see more herons. But I haven't decided whether I think seeing more herons is desirable. Sure, to start with, it's all, 'hey, look, there's a heron', but after a while it becomes 'is that still the same heron?' and then finally 'who do we call about this heron?'. So maybe it's for the best.

7. Waiting lists to be made shorter, but deeper.

8. Everything else to be doubled.

I seem to have developed some followers. Thanks for popping by, and that. Do say 'Hello' of you get the chance.

I'm not sure if it's been noticed before, but, on occasion, the Internet is not the best place to go for measured debate. Arguments on message boards, across social networking sites and in comment threads often have an edge to them which you see less routinely in real life, almost as if people are emboldened by the anonymity provided.

To give a comparison, this post so far is the second most understated thing ever written on the Internet. The most understated thing ever written on the Internet was a email by Mr Arnold Timms of Rochdale, who, having been on the Internet for a day, observed that people seemed to waste a significant amount of their time watching and reading things that made them very angry. (The third most understated thing ever written on the Internet was: 'I will hide in your house and cut you with a blade whilst you sleep you faggot'. This was also Mr Timms, midway through day eight.)

Some people may appreciate the directness, of course. "It's pithy", they might say. And it is. It can be also be venemouth, inthidious and, if you know where to look, a bit rathist.

One of my favourite things to do on the Internet is read the Twitter feed of Joe Cienkowski. Joe describes himself as a Christian author who lives his life for Jesus, so it all checks out up to this point. However, from casual observation, this often takes the form of berating people who don't believe that creationism is the only truth supported by science and that the Bible is the exact history of humanity, for hours at a time. I just can't imagine that Jesus would be looking down, thinking to himself, "OK, FINALLY. All the hungry are fed and the homeless are sheltered and sick are being cared for. Now, has anyone thought to berate the unbelievers?".

Today, I was reading the comments left on a Facebook wall post by Nick Clegg, who, similarly, is the deputy prime minister. If you have ever done this, you'll notice that people get a bit abusive. People repeatedly say 'broken promises' to him, regardless of the topic. Maybe this is like someone shouts a band's biggest hit song title at a band whilst watching them play something else. I worried that eventually he'll get fed up of hearing it and not play it at all. I mean, I've got a recorded version, but it's better live, isn't it?

Anyway, one comment I read particularly stood out. It said: "Nick, you're talking out of your backside, you've got your head up your ass". (Obviously, it didn't use punctuation nearly as well, and it used the word 'arse'. I always wondered why people do this. Is there someone I can arsk?). Now, this has two interpretations. The first is that Nick Clegg does in fact talk using his backside, and that he has, rather foolishly, also got his head up their as well, essentially muffling himself. I can't imagine that anyone with even basic public speaking training would allow themselves to make such a fundamental error.

The second option, which seems more likely to me, is that Nick Clegg actually speaks with his mouth. His mouth is in his head, which is currently up his own ass, giving the impression that he is, in fact, talking out of his ass. But he's not! He's talking out of his mouth, from some point near his ass. An understandable mistake, but not a fair criticism. It would be like having a go at someone for being both blind and a reckless driver.

(And then at this point I probably say something smart like 'please leave a comment and tell me what you think'.)

A thing happened today. A while ago, I signed a petition or something about a particular advert which essentially amounted to a lie and a fairly disturbing bit of fear-mongering, by the 'No to AV' Campaign. I'm someone who will vote Yes in May. If the country rejects AV in May, fine. But it would be nice to know it happened because of reasoned choices.

Anyway, at the time, I listed my profession as 'Academic'. I don't really ever know what to put. I'm a Research Fellow, officially, but the word 'Fellow' always sounds ridiculous when I go to say it and I balk, often simply calling myself a Research Fff. Something vague like 'I'm in research' or 'I do research' sometimes works in conversation, but in form-filling might be taken as a learning disability. (Name: My name is Craig. Age: My age is 27. Address: I live in a flat with a blue door. I keep all my secret things there. Ssshhh.). Basically, it's all linked to a guilt that I don't do a proper job with stone and grime and lathes, and no matter how much I want to call myself a 'fact welder' or a 'hypothesis foreman', there's no escaping this. 'Academic' sounds flouncy and pretentious, but I went with it on this occassion.

Which brings us to today, when I received an email asking whether, as an academic, I would add my name to a open letter type thing, urging people to vote Yes. This troubled me. Yes, I'm kind of an academic broadly, but I'm an economist more specifically. I have absolutely no academic credentials which should give me a voice of authority here. It would be like me signing a letter, as an academic, in support of stem cell research or tougher regulation on carbon emissions or the legal case for war. In all those cases, I have an opinion which I could argue for. But it's really just me (Craig, 27, yachtsman).

But tell me this, kind reader: am I being overly precious? Or is this kind of thing just as manipulative as a bad advert?