Another useless post.
This blogging thing has been getting into my head lately. What am I doing here? Why should my opinion be so important that I need to blast it out publicly over teh intarwebs? Why is it that people close to me get a better idea of what’s going on in my head by reading my blog than by talking to me?
It’s a weird dialectic. I keep my thoughts and emotions close to me, to the point of destroying relationships, yet I feel oddly compelled to post them in the public domain where they can do far more harm than good. Maybe it’s the control freak in me. It’s so much easier to have a conversation when the other party is a passive audience. Well not so much passive: there is the ability to post comments. Which of course I get to moderate (though honestly I wouldn’t moderate them at all if the asshole spammers would stop using comments to post URLs to cheap pharmaceutical products… grrr…).
Comments are another strange thing. They allow anonymous folks to help me broaden my view of the world. But how anonymous are they? I do get a small window to peek through, an IP address that may or may not hold a clue to a person’s identity, so long as it isn’t spoofed. Sweaty Cheese… memories of a band I was once in, from a music-related IP address… could it be someone from that past? How I hate who I was back then, the things I did and how I acted! Though I can’t quite escape my own self-loathing, I hope I have shed some of that youthful pompous arrogance.
Wonder if The Big Cool could be resurrected for a reunion tour? Maybe we could set up in the back of a pickup truck and drive around Clairemont pissing off the neighbors. Ah yes. The Big Suck. Hopes, dreams, and ego.
A popular quote these days, especially in light of all these damned blogs and message boards: “Opinions are like assholes, everyone’s got one” (credit Art Blakey?) — and they all stink. So here is space for mine, this thing we call a blog.
Once again, another useless post.
