This, as I'm writing it, has magically and numerically become post number two-thousand, two-hundred and ninety-five. That's 2295 for the severely illiterate.
I guess if you'd caught me in five more posts it would be sort of an important one, but not really. Once you get into the thousands, hundreds don't seem so important. Maybe 2500 is a milestone, but not 2300.
Anyway, let's see what we can get out of 2295.
Okay. I'm back from research! Here's what the elves have recovered for me.
No major things happen in literature - specifically science fiction- in that year. Of course the year has been used, but nothing important. No seminal works take place at that time. The closest I could come to finding a thing was that apparently stardate 10, 000 in the Star Trek universe happens in 2295. Wait, I've double-checked that, and someone else says it's 2167. Fuck me, nevermind.
2295 sucks. So I guess this post was doomed from the start. What's the point, here, then? That I've written a shitload of posts? That's true. Gotta be a book in this by now. Publishers? Anyone? Mom?
Short Answer: I'll write a fucking story that takes place in 2295. It will be the definitive 2295 story. I'll call it 2295! (Do I get any credit for using the number over and over again in this post? Oh, you didn't come here to see who gets credit? Oh, you just wanted to laugh? Oh, I fucked up? Fair.)