Freedom from the known.

Well, we have finally reached the point in internet history where there is no forward progress that does not serve malicious interests. Being old enough to remember the two-robots-locked-in-a-death-dance sound of the very first dial-up modems I can assure you that it took less than 30 years for the greatest invention of the modern age to go from its precocious we-are-all-one-community roots to something that would make Orwell shit directly into his pants and then puke, were he still alive to see it. And so, like the people currently playing Snake on a 2022 replica Nokia brick phone, and in line with our one-page Geocities emulator website (the only website NANIKA has ever had), we are on goddamned Blogger (née Blogspot) because Instagram, formerly the least offensive of the social media channels, is now a place for people to make something worse than Vines in an attempt to maintain user engagement long enough for invisible interests to scrape the last of your private data from the corpse of your digital body.

It's great. This is like LiveJournal all over again, which we used to have for our coffeeshop way back in the wild early '00s. I give it two years tops before someone finds out this platform is still sitting here like some sort of dew-dappled field after a long trek through an overgrown, ad-filled forest, and subsequently shits all over it.

We are a noodle and bun bar located in Glasgow. There are no noodles right now, but they'll be back. Like Blogspot, you know? You just need some patience.