The Begrudging Return...
Well I decided to give this blog another chance. I got very frustrated the last several times I attempted making entries. "Attmpted" is the operant word in that last sentence because I wasn't able to post due to errors in the system. I went back to journalling in my little notebooks.
This was a nostalgic getaway from the pleasant colors and structure of the blog. I was able to draw a picture, crease the page, draw lines from one part of the page to the other for emphasis. It was rather nice.
The old fashion way of journalling has its benefits. You don't feel compelled to write anything that you think people would find witty. You could be whining without fear of being labelled a complaining bitch. Of course you don't get to have the comments providing useful advice, amusing anecdotes, and rude criticism.
So why am I back? Why not stay underground? Well even the most self-loathing bloggers feel the need to become a part of society. If not for the altruistic reason of raising the bar on discourse or encouraging good will towards man, then for selfish reasons like entertaining ourselves with the influence we accumulate.
Not that I think that I have any influence. I don't even have a single comment on this blog. No, I know perfectly well that I exude no influence here. But that doesn't mean that I don't desire it. It would be quite pleasing to be a demegogue, manipulating the masses by the feeble power of my mind.
How, you say, could I accumulate influence when I readily admit that the accumulation is my motive? Wouldn't people be repelled by that fact and all hope of influence would be lost? Very possible, but I often fancy that I can present ideas and concepts in such a subtle and delicate way that people would be drawn to them and wouldn't be able to prevent themselves from agreeing. The admission of a subliminal message would cause one to analyze and critique my messages, but that would come to no avail. Their study would only further their journey towards the center of my web. Only I would know the message, and everyone else... Well they'll simply become unwitting subjects of my pen.
High hopes from a small man. All the while during writing that last couple paragraphs I knew completely well that I was lying to myself. I know my limitations. I could never become that powerful. Indeed nobody does unless placed there by a higher power. Blogs are great means to reaching the masses but only the willing are those that listen.
What are the most popular blogs? Those of celebrities. Those of politicians. Those of the famous. There is no difference. Same message as any other media, just a different medium. Sure this is an outlet for discovery. Maybe someone will get noticed by a syndicate and get highered on to write editorials or commentary, but even those people are subject to censoring. They all eventually write what they're told.
No the only place for me is underground. My contempt for the motives of institutions runs far too deep for me to ever be a demegogue. But at the very least, now I am once again getting my message out there. Even if nobody reads my hideous blogs...
This was a nostalgic getaway from the pleasant colors and structure of the blog. I was able to draw a picture, crease the page, draw lines from one part of the page to the other for emphasis. It was rather nice.
The old fashion way of journalling has its benefits. You don't feel compelled to write anything that you think people would find witty. You could be whining without fear of being labelled a complaining bitch. Of course you don't get to have the comments providing useful advice, amusing anecdotes, and rude criticism.
So why am I back? Why not stay underground? Well even the most self-loathing bloggers feel the need to become a part of society. If not for the altruistic reason of raising the bar on discourse or encouraging good will towards man, then for selfish reasons like entertaining ourselves with the influence we accumulate.
Not that I think that I have any influence. I don't even have a single comment on this blog. No, I know perfectly well that I exude no influence here. But that doesn't mean that I don't desire it. It would be quite pleasing to be a demegogue, manipulating the masses by the feeble power of my mind.
How, you say, could I accumulate influence when I readily admit that the accumulation is my motive? Wouldn't people be repelled by that fact and all hope of influence would be lost? Very possible, but I often fancy that I can present ideas and concepts in such a subtle and delicate way that people would be drawn to them and wouldn't be able to prevent themselves from agreeing. The admission of a subliminal message would cause one to analyze and critique my messages, but that would come to no avail. Their study would only further their journey towards the center of my web. Only I would know the message, and everyone else... Well they'll simply become unwitting subjects of my pen.
High hopes from a small man. All the while during writing that last couple paragraphs I knew completely well that I was lying to myself. I know my limitations. I could never become that powerful. Indeed nobody does unless placed there by a higher power. Blogs are great means to reaching the masses but only the willing are those that listen.
What are the most popular blogs? Those of celebrities. Those of politicians. Those of the famous. There is no difference. Same message as any other media, just a different medium. Sure this is an outlet for discovery. Maybe someone will get noticed by a syndicate and get highered on to write editorials or commentary, but even those people are subject to censoring. They all eventually write what they're told.
No the only place for me is underground. My contempt for the motives of institutions runs far too deep for me to ever be a demegogue. But at the very least, now I am once again getting my message out there. Even if nobody reads my hideous blogs...
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