This is, when one reaches this site, a very understandable question.
"What ink? Where has it gone to? What an odd place indeed..."
There were several reasons (three, particularly - a bit of a triple entendre, if you will) why I christened this cyber-chamber such. They are a bit odd, and perhaps a trifle silly, but it is what it is called and it shall remain that way.
1. The first reason is of course a play on "the missing link", a phrase that can mean many things. I don't claim to be, have, or know of any such "link", but I thought it appropriate, considering what a blog is - a place where one is able to bring all the interesting things that one comes up with, hears, or reads about and places them all conveniently in one spot. A spot, of course, that anyone can find and enjoy (or not enjoy, as the case may be). This is the place that links together all of a persons thoughts that had previously been mere passing fancies to be carried away by any sudden movements.
Of course, this is rather silly and is not nearly as important as #2.
2. In 1933, something happened in Oxford. A group was formed, neither club nor literary society, though it "partook of the nature of both." This informal group met regularly on Monday mornings at various local pubs, most famously, the "Eagle and Child" (affectionately referred to as the "Bird and Baby") This group, dear reader, was called The Inklings. The Inklings consisted of 20 some members, most notably Clive Staples Lewis and the Good Professor John Ronald Ruel Tolkien. The Good Professor Tolkien is my hero; his incredible mythopoeia of "Middle-earth" (which entranced me the momemt I read the first word) later led me to the facinating world of linguistics - philology in particular - that I live and breath now. C. S. Lewis I have befriended also. Though never moved by Narnia so much as by Arda, I still enjoy The Chronicles and (in particular) his Space Trilogy. I suppose I fancy myself something of a kindred spirit to the gentlemen of the Inking society (although I can hardly think they would let such an underqualified female into their meetings. Yeah, I wish). So in a way I like to think of myself (or at least a slightly intelligent version of myself) as the Ink that never was. The one that's missing. The Missing Ink.
3. This third reason was really more of a silly (albeit practical) afterthought that completed my triple entendre.
I have always been intrigued by the concept of letter-writing, the perfect means of communication. I've always wanted to write letters, but, alas, I am far too disorganized and cowardly to attempt such a thing. "Perhaps," I thought to myself, "this is why I am employing this cyber-chamber - because I...lost my ink." I cannot write letters with pens on paper because (silly me) my ink is missing! What a boob am I!
Well, those are the reasons. They may seem odd and irrelevent but they are what they are.
And whatever the case, the Ink is still Missing.
