So *This* is Blogging …

It’s really not as exciting as I thought it would be.   I think I regret doing it already.  You probably do, too.  In fact, I know we all do.  It’s probably going to be a big waste of time.

Blogging seems so 00s.  Since those regrettable, forgettable years, friends have encouraged me to do it, because, they say, I have “a certain perspective,” but the hidden meaning of that, of course, is “shut up.  go away.  you’re annoying us.  tell it to the internet.”  Well I’m a little thick sometimes, a little slow to take the hint, and probably terribly late to the party, but fine, whatever, i’ll start a blog.  Le voici.

But now that I’m here, what do I have to blog about?  I’m a failed phenomenologist.  An itinerant academic. An American in Paris.   A political activist.  An anxious atheist existentialist.  A cultural consumer.  Un gigolo d’informatique. I have a hemorrhoid and my feet often stink.  Social construction says I should be fabulous, but I suffer from PTED, so instead i’m cranky and bitter. Internet personality?  Meh.  We’ll see.  But all of that is what I’ll be blogging about.  And I’ll be curating and commenting on links related and of interest to me, just as I do on Facebook.  And I may even get some of my many interesting friends to guest blog about whatever’s got their panties in a bunch.

My first several posts, however, will be about politics, because oddly, it’s politics that has been sustaining me in various ways lately, which i didn’t expect.  Not some abstract notion of “the political,” mind you, but the real thing–activism in the party at the grassroots level, which mostly amounts to using complete sentences and helping old ladies use their Macs. As a result of my political activism, I’ve been named a delegate to the Democratic National Convention in Charlotte.  Now, I know you’re saying “ew, Democrats” for any number of reasons, and I probably agree with some of them.  And you may wonder how someone like me got invited to an event like that, or why I would even want to go.  Because delegates, you know, they are those people who wear the silly hats and wave signs and cheer at the convention.  Waving signs and cheering are, along with high-fiving, not things I do.  But it turns out that being a delegate is a lot of hard work.  And i’m going to blog about it, extensively and live from the Convention floor.  You may even see me on television.

The rest of the blog will evolve in due time, as blogs do, but like so many others, and to paraphrase Sartre, it’ll probably go unnoticed and eventually just die of neglect, much like my career.

Already i want to delete this post; it’s just insipid.  Guh.  I’ll get better at this, I swear.

10 thoughts on “So *This* is Blogging …

  1. Senor Screwtape, I told you not to do this.

    “It’s really not as exciting as I thought it would be. I think I regret doing it already. You probably do, too. In fact, I know we all do. It’s probably going to be a big waste of time.”

    Well said. If you are intent on subjecting us all to this, as it appears you are: please, please, please… let me get what I want (god knows it’d be the first time) and write about something real. You’re cool and everything, but writing about writing is pretty much jacking off. You should do better.

    Warmest affection,

  2. Jumping on the “looking forward to convention blogging” bandwagon. Good luck and Godlessspeed!


  3. I humbly assert that writing is always a productive and worthwhile endeavor. Its rewards are sometimes completely personal, and you have no idea where it will take you when you start a sentence, paragraph, or page. Writing brings peace to me, along with huge upwellings of emotion that eventually lead to peace, once again. May your literary journey be one of self-discovery, and thanks for taking the rest of us along for the ride. Sorry about the hemmeroid…

    • I honor your humility. And I understand and appreciate your important points re: writing as personal growth.

      My point is that Bob should share his genius snarking and snarling about funny shit that’s not just about Bob.

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