Verbicide by dossier
Wednesday, March 27, 2002
This is the beginning of a journey.
The road will be long and torturous, filled with pitfalls, pratfalls and waterfalls. There will be side trips, too—down the long dusty hallways of time, and perhaps a flight of fancy on occasion. I know I walk it alone, but it's my hope that I can con you into keeping me company here and there. I also do not know how long this road is, either.
A need to blog has seized me at a vulnerable moment. Is it hubris? Probably. A pitiful attempt to connect and share? Definitely. But after all I am only human, despite my decades of trying to overcome that frailty.
It is not a new concept to me, I had run across blogs here and there in the past 5 years, and I found them all most unappealing and ridiculous. But a few weeks L mentioned a specific blog that had raised some furor, and I went to investigate: I found a wild and tangled web of daily honesty, fear, doldrums, rants and snippets from people whom I have adored from afar in the last 3 or 4 years. What a revelation! The elusive A has touched me deeply with her blog—I can only hope that you feel the same after mine.
I have threatened to keep a diary of sorts for years and years. K and I had a discussion about the ephemeral nature of electronic communication—that in 200 years, there won't necessarily be the same body of written correspondence to illuminate the past. The John and Abigail Adams' of the 20th century will be lost to future archeologists by failed hard drives and cell phones. So, here I am starting to chronicle what is possibly the last year I am alive in an electronic media that will disappear at the whim of a canceled email account.
The irony seems fitting somehow.
Welcome to the blog.
¶ 7:34 PM 3 Comments
The road will be long and torturous, filled with pitfalls, pratfalls and waterfalls. There will be side trips, too—down the long dusty hallways of time, and perhaps a flight of fancy on occasion. I know I walk it alone, but it's my hope that I can con you into keeping me company here and there. I also do not know how long this road is, either.
A need to blog has seized me at a vulnerable moment. Is it hubris? Probably. A pitiful attempt to connect and share? Definitely. But after all I am only human, despite my decades of trying to overcome that frailty.
It is not a new concept to me, I had run across blogs here and there in the past 5 years, and I found them all most unappealing and ridiculous. But a few weeks L mentioned a specific blog that had raised some furor, and I went to investigate: I found a wild and tangled web of daily honesty, fear, doldrums, rants and snippets from people whom I have adored from afar in the last 3 or 4 years. What a revelation! The elusive A has touched me deeply with her blog—I can only hope that you feel the same after mine.
I have threatened to keep a diary of sorts for years and years. K and I had a discussion about the ephemeral nature of electronic communication—that in 200 years, there won't necessarily be the same body of written correspondence to illuminate the past. The John and Abigail Adams' of the 20th century will be lost to future archeologists by failed hard drives and cell phones. So, here I am starting to chronicle what is possibly the last year I am alive in an electronic media that will disappear at the whim of a canceled email account.
The irony seems fitting somehow.
Welcome to the blog.
¶ 7:34 PM 3 Comments
