explanation of disappearance

The negotiations with Blogger’s—and ultimately Google’s—executive, senior executive, very senior executive, and very very senior executive, which were alluded to in the sadoo’s 16.12.12 entry, were intense and ferocious.  Subterfuge, split infinitives, hostile takeovers, dangling modifiers, book cooking, misplaced metaphors:  all was there ... culminating in, not the divulging of how (or, naturally, why) five blogs mysteriously vanished ... no recompense, also naturally ... but only return.  So the sadoo imminently posts a gargantuan beefy stinky whopper of recovered blogs, in one (with bonus features to boot!), and the dictionary of modern times continues to unfold itself, little hints and tinsels, wobbles and crackers, peering from behind columns, in the forgotten creases of old books, the winks of time, the bittersweet acceptance of the soul’s meteorologies, clouds over England, revealing—tenuously, opaquely, brief, oh briefly—relations of words and things, things and things, words and words.  And the eye falters, but saunters on, like the grey mass in Blood Meridian’s epilogue, seeking the unseekable, naming the unnameable, blood and time fogs on unseen horizons, the sleep of language.

The sadoo continues to find his dictionary of modern times, his humptydumptonian adaptation of Johnson’s work and its many increasingly orthodox successors, a sufficiently flexible and expansive vessel to contain the cacophonous deluge of sensations he hourly receives and is then compelled to find (aesthetic) time in (historic) time to transform this deluge to what we perhaps indulgently are calling definitions.