(The title of the post below is But before I get that life because I thought I had posted this one, which includes the phrase “I’ll end with this and then go try to get a life,” earlier. I obviously never checked to see whether this one had showed up; I had hit the wrong button and only saved it.
This explanation brought to you by the fact that I have no life.)
One more Internet-only phenomenon that fascinates and amuses me: bloggers who have no reason to think anyone is reading their stuff, yet write as though they’re on a covert operation for a shadowy outfit splintered from the shards of aan arm of the CIA or running from the mob. They go on and on about how they have something exciting they really really want to reveal, but just don’t want to take that chance just yet!!! Or, they wax somberly about some major upheaval that’s taken place and apologize for having been gone for so long. Or hell, they talk about how they decided to exhume Jimmy Hoffa’s body from beneath the 50-yard line at Giants Stadium and give him the Weekend at Bernie’s treatment at Coney Island. Meanwhile, one scrolls down the front pages of these blogs, scanning for eveidence of interactivity…0 comments…0 comments…0…0..0…
I’m really not ragging such people, because I’m sure there’s therapeutic value in clearing one’s head of shunk when the probability of being watched is greater than zero, even if only by some almost immeasurable amount. I’ve done plenty of purely private journaling in MS Word, but if I think there’s even the tinest chance I might ultimately post my output in some anonymous hole-in-the-ground forum for bipolar people or even a themeless Web joint, it becomes a different experience. And true, everyone has a hit counter now, so even if no comments are forthcoming, the person doing the jabbering might know that he or she has even one daily visitor, and that can be enough.
I bring all of this up, of course, because I just discovered one such blog. Well, I knew about it already, having argued some with its proprietor lest year on his home turf, but for some reason thought of it for the first time in many months. So I popped over there, and it seems like the guy has been keeping some kind of potentially transforming experience (yes, it’s a religious blog) under his hat for some time, and has been dropping little hints here and there, and this would be funny enough even if he didn’t write in a golly gee whillikers dadgum criminy life is just so darned GREAT tone, like Sarah Palin before her senior prom, and meanwhile he hasn’t seen a comment in two months, and…
Well, I’m just going to wind up looking like a dick again here, because I don’t want to give out the URL–although this guy’s views are out to lunch (he’d definitely be the sort to put one of those GOD DOESN’T BELIEVE IN ATHEISTS bumper stickers on his car and view it as both deep philosophy and the height of hilarity)–he’s clearly a decent fellow. But I’ll ask you to trust me that between the content, the tone, and the virtual crickets setting up a meth lab in the background, you would not get through one post of this wordheap without laughing. For example, he wrote this (I’ve doctored it up to keep you Googly fuckers at bay):
I have been oddly silent on this blog without giving any reason as why. It hasn’t been for lack of happenings or vision, but rather a need to keep certain things to myself. This is still a requirement to a great extent, but I have been given the okay to share with you just a taste about what has been unfolding
You see,it’s about this girl….
OK, I’ll wait until you quit chuckling…. Yeah, that’s enough, now cut it out! :o)
This guy is probably 30 years old and evidently experiencing the joys of his first crush. Shit, I’m happy for him. But it doesn’t change the Trey-Parker-at-the-beginning-of-Orgazmo factor.
I’ll end with this and then go try to get a life. He works with computers and is probably very bright, but a pundit he’s not. Here’s what he had to say about his first Palin sighting:
John McCain’s pick for VP, one Sarah Palin, gave her acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention yesterday. I watched the whole thing, and boy, it’s safe to say Palin just tossed a nuclear warhead into the Democratic camp, and I’m guessing they won’t even know what hit ’em for awhile. Like many Republicans, I’d all but written off the GOP in recent years and could barely muster the energy to vote at the end of campaigns. Now I’m reaching into my wallet and putting up a sign in my yard. John McCain, you scamp, you! Everyone not so long ago thought the race was over. Clearly, it is not.