Apparently you should not blog on no sleep. Your brain starts to jumble facts and you end up misinforming the entire blogosphere, crediting the wrong writer with awesome work. So I apologize to Randall Wallace, whom I adore, for saying that William Monaghan wrote Braveheart. He didn't. If you can stomach my error, I waxed otherwise poetic about Mel Gibson's acting comeback over at MovieZen.
I suppose after 24.99 years of being perfect, I was bound to screw up at some point. And there it is.
At least I'm not the only professional blunderer out there. I've read some hilarious entries in the past. Some intentionally incorrect for the sake of attracting attention (controversy is a great way to build traffic and get commenters going), and some just babbling on without that filter I like to call "a brain." I won't point out any specific insanity, although naming The Love Guru as one of the top movies of the summer might be part of it. Seriously.
Brain-farting is not limited to cyberspace. This morning, for example, as I was eating breakfast in front of Canada AM, a political analyst said the most brilliant thing I've ever heard at 6:45 a.m.:
"Only 20% of women in the House of Commons are women."And then she went on to complain about how women are mocked. Yes. I wonder why.
Later, at work, I noticed that someone from one of our international offices had confused Marilyn Manson with Charles Manson. So I suppose it's a worldwide phenomenon, this absence of smarts.
The problem with momentary intelligence lapses is that you have to live with your gaffes when you come to. It's probably easier on the psyche to be dumb all the time than to have to neurotically recover from humiliating errors that point to your humanness.
So I will amend, but I won't delete.
And yes, I know what a couple of you are thinking. This is coming from the girl who will never live down saying "for all intensive purposes." Thanks, guys.
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