File this under "why write." But I've decided to treat this as a real diary - so please ignore it if you're expecting any reporting or facts.
In fact I think there's a real danger in getting carried away with the idea of blogging as reporting in general, and maybe for a site as steeped in meta as this one this is well covered ground. But I am an utter novice, you should know that as well: I know what I know. In fact probably less. No use trying to convince you otherwise. So I guess it comes back to Question #1: Why write?
First off, I'll have you know my access, personally, to DailyKos has been cut off at the knees, owing to the fact that my employer (a major international financial services provider) has plugged the URL into its Websense content filter. CURSE YOU, BIG BROTHER, FOR NOT PAYING ME TO READ BLOGS! I guess I'd feel a little better about things if I simultaneously lost access to Little Green Footballs or Powerline, but alas we
are dealing with The Man, now, aren't we.
And I'm not one of those sadists that enjoys locking horns with our more reptilian counterparts. So here I am, on my own time (cue violins), trying to catch up on the day's yammer and add my voice to the cacophony.
What nonsense we put up with, just to build community. I see this site as a kind of village, really, in which we all live and struggle and work. It isn't really, you literalist you, I just think it's odd how my concept of community has shifted unalterably simply by reading and following and associating with the fine folks around here. And one might think this bizarre connectivity would offer me a sense of hope and optimism, but quite the opposite is true, actually. The ability to congregate ideologically over the internet has the chilling side-effect of estragement from the RL community, with all its attendant diversities - intellectual, moral, spiritual, and all things physical.
Fuck it. Let's have a potluck right here. (Anyone stupid enough to have read this far: please go to your refrigerator and bring something back to the PC. Write what you brought in the comments below, and if you like you can give me your RL address (send to evanmachlan at yahoo dot com) and I'll send you some of my Grampa's Famous Potato Salad. Mucho gusto.) "Ouijaboy," you say, as if I didn't just now show you my real name, "you really need to get out more." This is certainly true. But where would I go? Suggestions welcome - post them below under the various food descriptions.
All kidding aside, though, I'm struggling to stay optimistic. I find sheer rage and horror blissfully easy to maintain, while hope has a half life of about two minutes. At least for me. I find it amazing, frankly fucking dazzling that some folks are able to see BOLTON!'s new gig as a positive omen, as if this is the one overreach that's going to push the Bush Administration over the cliff. Really. Lack of WMD didn't. TANG didn't. Guckert didn't. Abu Ghraib didn't. Downing Street Minutes didn't. Plame - well, the jury's still out, but I doubt it. Treason isn't fellatio, after all. So now folks think Yosemite Sam has a chance to pull the plug on the whole mess? Feh. Everyone is on vacation. We'll see.
But we may as well have a little fun with it. From now on I'm going to capitalize BOLTON!, just like that, with an exclamation point, whenever I type his name. If I'm ever lucky enough to quote him (or even make up some stupid shit he'd say), I'll go Owen Meany on his ass. (For example: "LET'S FACE IT, IF TEN FLOORS DISAPPEARED FROM THE U.N. NOBODY WOULD KNOW THE DIFFERENCE!", John BOLTON!, U.N Ambassador.) Maybe if we all come up with silly ways of dealing with it the next 18 months will pass, as they say, like "a fart in a windstorm."
One can only hope.
