Jericho:Um... Hi! I'm going to remain calm this time!
Howdy folks. Long time since my last post. I'm sorry.
One of the problems I experience being a blogist is that I have a desire to share everything and I just cannot do that. I have a Non Disclosure Agreement at work. There are things you don't say in a public space for fear of losing your job. There are things that happen between you and your family that are private and need to be kept that way. So, unless I wanted to come out here and detail for you my daily lunch menu (usually a Slim Fast Low Carb chocolate shake, BTW) I really don't have a lot to write about. I have my life, my passions and this blog, that's it. A good portion of my life isn't fit for print.
I find a kindred spirit in Howard Stern, of all people. Love him or hate him, he is doing all of us a favor by finding ways to push the envelope and keep free speech free. Anyone else find it sad that two of our biggest free speech advocates are Howard Stern, Shock Jock and Larry Flynt, pornographer? Anyway, enough of this digression ...
If you have never seen Howard Stern's movie "Private Parts", give it a look. Yes, there are boobs flashing at random and Howard's naked tush, but it has other valuable bits as well. I saw the movie and I read a $1 copy of the book for a giggle. The movie hits this topic, but the book hits it harder - the topic is truth. Howard points out in the movie that he needs to come up with four hours of material a day, and either he uses his life for material or he is going to come up short. At one point, he realizes that he is holding back and he needs to go further, to tell the truth about himself and when he feels he shouldn't say anything, he knows right there that he should say that thing. This causes friction between he and his wife, as he shares their most intimate events. Believe it or don't, these intimate events are the "Private Parts" referred to in the clever title.
Now, IWDC isn't my job. I wish, but it's not. I don't share that aspect with Howard. I don't owe you, constant reader, a damn thing. I just don't. You, my dear reader, aren't paying my bills. I write here when I can about what I can. I write here because I want to write. But, many days, the blog calls out to me. "Write in me" it says "tell me your feelings. Share your life with me." And I want to, I want to share all of my life. I want to tell my blog everything, because I know my friends read this, so it's telling them everything about my life. Since this takes the places of my private diaries of the past, I'm missing huge parts of my personal story, all for the sake of an NDA or the privacy of family and friends. I'm a writer, I just am, and this is most of the writing I do these days, so I miss doing it.
Screwing up my relationships or my job over my blog just isn't worth it. And I feel like a moron putting up silly stuff. Max does a good job of balancing silly to worthwhile - I don't think I have his flair for it. So, I don't write out here nearly as often as I want to.
I've probably covered most of this before. You are probably sitting there wondering why you have read this far. If you are looking for a payoff, forget it, stop reading now. This is just me rambling. I'm justifying my lack of entries with one long entry about the fact that I don't have any entries out here. Sorry to waste your time.
Pretty much, that's what IWDC is: a waste of time. IWDC has been a huge time sink. Think about it. Think about the time in the last four years that I have invested here. Think about the time Max has spent. Think about the time our handful of readers have spent. On top of writing and admining this site, Max and I leave a lot of comments out here. I know I hit this site at least once a day, even when I haven't written out here for weeks. There are days I hit the site five or six times and don't even leave a comment. Think of all that time, time that could have been spent on so many other things. Yet, here I am, writing my pathetic little whiny rant. To profit whom? What do I have to show? One more entry.
But I love this little site. I'm oddly proud of it. Whenever I tell someone about it, I have this huge smile on my face. Then I spend the next half hour apologizing for it. "Yeah, it's just a blog, my friend and I keep it, so it's not just me." I always have a feeling of inadequacy when I admit that. I feel like I rely on Max to carry this project. "Yeah, the subjects are our own twisted view of the world. We tend to say exactly what's on our mind and we both suck at editing ourselves." Especially me, I think. "Oh, yeah, the language is pretty fuc..., I mean we use some pretty rough language sometimes, it's pretty much PG-17 out there." Apologizing for my love of free speech; my liberal tendencies tripping over my non-confrontational need to please others.
I wanted to do this to have something for Max and I to share. I wanted to do a project online. I wanted to have some long term thing I could point at and be proud of. I guess I have all of that here. I just feel like I'm not keeping up my end of the deal usually.
Should I tell you the boring stuff? Has our reality television obsessed/corrupted society gone so far that what I have for lunch is interesting to our readership? If you, the reader, think so, say so! The comment thingy is there for you to exploit. Telling you all about my daily lunch will make for easy writing on my part. I'll add daily bits about my bus rides and the joys that are our cats - if you wish. Unless I hear from you, I'll stick to the odd, long post about things that really interest me. Things I feel are worth your attention.
One of the problems I experience being a blogist is that I have a desire to share everything and I just cannot do that. I have a Non Disclosure Agreement at work. There are things you don't say in a public space for fear of losing your job. There are things that happen between you and your family that are private and need to be kept that way. So, unless I wanted to come out here and detail for you my daily lunch menu (usually a Slim Fast Low Carb chocolate shake, BTW) I really don't have a lot to write about. I have my life, my passions and this blog, that's it. A good portion of my life isn't fit for print.
I find a kindred spirit in Howard Stern, of all people. Love him or hate him, he is doing all of us a favor by finding ways to push the envelope and keep free speech free. Anyone else find it sad that two of our biggest free speech advocates are Howard Stern, Shock Jock and Larry Flynt, pornographer? Anyway, enough of this digression ...
If you have never seen Howard Stern's movie "Private Parts", give it a look. Yes, there are boobs flashing at random and Howard's naked tush, but it has other valuable bits as well. I saw the movie and I read a $1 copy of the book for a giggle. The movie hits this topic, but the book hits it harder - the topic is truth. Howard points out in the movie that he needs to come up with four hours of material a day, and either he uses his life for material or he is going to come up short. At one point, he realizes that he is holding back and he needs to go further, to tell the truth about himself and when he feels he shouldn't say anything, he knows right there that he should say that thing. This causes friction between he and his wife, as he shares their most intimate events. Believe it or don't, these intimate events are the "Private Parts" referred to in the clever title.
Now, IWDC isn't my job. I wish, but it's not. I don't share that aspect with Howard. I don't owe you, constant reader, a damn thing. I just don't. You, my dear reader, aren't paying my bills. I write here when I can about what I can. I write here because I want to write. But, many days, the blog calls out to me. "Write in me" it says "tell me your feelings. Share your life with me." And I want to, I want to share all of my life. I want to tell my blog everything, because I know my friends read this, so it's telling them everything about my life. Since this takes the places of my private diaries of the past, I'm missing huge parts of my personal story, all for the sake of an NDA or the privacy of family and friends. I'm a writer, I just am, and this is most of the writing I do these days, so I miss doing it.
Screwing up my relationships or my job over my blog just isn't worth it. And I feel like a moron putting up silly stuff. Max does a good job of balancing silly to worthwhile - I don't think I have his flair for it. So, I don't write out here nearly as often as I want to.
I've probably covered most of this before. You are probably sitting there wondering why you have read this far. If you are looking for a payoff, forget it, stop reading now. This is just me rambling. I'm justifying my lack of entries with one long entry about the fact that I don't have any entries out here. Sorry to waste your time.
Pretty much, that's what IWDC is: a waste of time. IWDC has been a huge time sink. Think about it. Think about the time in the last four years that I have invested here. Think about the time Max has spent. Think about the time our handful of readers have spent. On top of writing and admining this site, Max and I leave a lot of comments out here. I know I hit this site at least once a day, even when I haven't written out here for weeks. There are days I hit the site five or six times and don't even leave a comment. Think of all that time, time that could have been spent on so many other things. Yet, here I am, writing my pathetic little whiny rant. To profit whom? What do I have to show? One more entry.
But I love this little site. I'm oddly proud of it. Whenever I tell someone about it, I have this huge smile on my face. Then I spend the next half hour apologizing for it. "Yeah, it's just a blog, my friend and I keep it, so it's not just me." I always have a feeling of inadequacy when I admit that. I feel like I rely on Max to carry this project. "Yeah, the subjects are our own twisted view of the world. We tend to say exactly what's on our mind and we both suck at editing ourselves." Especially me, I think. "Oh, yeah, the language is pretty fuc..., I mean we use some pretty rough language sometimes, it's pretty much PG-17 out there." Apologizing for my love of free speech; my liberal tendencies tripping over my non-confrontational need to please others.
I wanted to do this to have something for Max and I to share. I wanted to do a project online. I wanted to have some long term thing I could point at and be proud of. I guess I have all of that here. I just feel like I'm not keeping up my end of the deal usually.
Should I tell you the boring stuff? Has our reality television obsessed/corrupted society gone so far that what I have for lunch is interesting to our readership? If you, the reader, think so, say so! The comment thingy is there for you to exploit. Telling you all about my daily lunch will make for easy writing on my part. I'll add daily bits about my bus rides and the joys that are our cats - if you wish. Unless I hear from you, I'll stick to the odd, long post about things that really interest me. Things I feel are worth your attention.
posted by Jericho Brown at 4/03/2006 03:09:00 PM
7 Comments:
The two hour bus ride from hell is a good start......
Lunch is good. Freakout hell bus rides are good.
Drugs are bad. Don't do drugs.
Well, I wouldn't say I'm all that interested in your lunch, dear, but why can't you talk about some of your feelings? You actually did that just now. Ok, I know you can't talk about ALL your feelings, but the ones that won't alienate someone would be nice. Like, can't you talk about your feelings for Steph? (I love it when Max talks about me on here.) Or your feelings about having an NDA in the first place or your feelings about other things- like polyamoury or what not? I dunno... Like I've got room to talk.. we know how often I blog.
This must be why I stopped reading your blog the first time around. Geesh! Even I am spending time updating a blog... even me!!! So, you can, too! If not... well... I could un-friend you on MySpace! Hahaha!
My! The power you have over me, Holly! :)
So, yeah, I started a post about my feelings and a whole lot of other stuff. It's still a draft. I doubt I will ever publish it. I probably shouldn't even mention it here. It's just a huge pile of shit, that entry. Kinda like my life ... I dunno ...
Post, bitch!
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