For Scott

Thanks to my esteemed friend Scott, (the webmaster of dribbleglass.com) I again feel compelled to add to my blog. The guilt imposed upon me by Scott's passive aggressive nature has finally wormed its way through my digestive system and is currently causing my lower tract to constrict and convulse in an odd yet disturbingly pleasant fashion. Thanks Scott.

I have not embarked upon any new ideas since my last post, nor do I suspect one will come of this current stream of consciousness. Nevertheless, I feel Scott (and other readers yet to be known) deserve to know what currently resides in the synapses of my brain. That having been said, I have nothing to write about, or more to the point, nothing that I feel needs to be shared with the world. That having been said, I have said everything I need to say.......for now.

On Writing

I have to admit, I'm impressed with the voluminous amount of blogs that individuals post on a daily basis. I, myself, had such high expectations when I first began putting my words to the web, but after much consideration and the occasional shrug of my shoulders, I resided myself to the fact that I'll write something whenever I bloody well feel like it. Nyah!

But this again gets me thinking, "Just who are these people that blog every day, and who do they think they are?" I mean, other than the posts by journalists and the avant- garde/neo-political/edgy bloggers who's really reading the stuff that's out there? Friends of the writers? Daily aquaintances that would hear the writer's opinions at the water cooler anyway? Net enabled dogs and cats? Who?

Take me for instance. I might have something interesting to say, or I may perhaps have a quip that's so witty I feel inclined to share it with the entire online world, but so what! What makes me so special that my ego actually thinks what I have to say makes any difference? And more importantly, who's reading this to tell me so? (other than, of course, my friends and cats)

That's why I find it so amazing that there are people out there who actually center their lives around the daily posting of the trivialities of their lives. Maybe they feel that they are establishing themselves as creative writers? Or maybe they believe that the gigabytes of storage being devoted to host their ongoing autobiography is essential to uphold the thermodynamic principle of entropy? Or perhaps still, maybe their hopes are that in a million years someone will unzip the digital archives of their lives and find some important, little tidbit which will answer the eternal question.........

"Ah, Mary Jones chose this day, July 19, 2005 to ride the bus to work as opposed to driving her gas-guzzling suv. This selfless act set in motion the changing tide of human existence and forever altered the reality of the species. Amazing, that she had the foresight to document this event, and establish in the annals of her race this key event which led to our discovery of the meaning of life."

So why do it? Why spend countless hours clicking away at the keyboard at such a futile and insignificant endeavor? And why would someone so cynical as myself subscribe to any part of it?
Hmmmmm..............................
Apparently no one is there to respond. How odd.
I suppose I'll offer my own response, then if someone reads my post in a million years, they can contemplate their own opinion and wonder if my corporeal spirit will be around to witness it.

So my compelling thought is that this type of journal writing is cathartic. A bit more voyeuristic than the traditional diary writing, but therapeutic just the same. It affords people to be expressive and daring all at the same time, much like driving at rush hour but without all the greenhouse gases. I guess that's why I do it. Not because what I have to say is profound, 'cause let's be honest, there are no revelations in my commentary. But because I tend to feel a little better about myself after I've posted something.

So I suppose the greater question is, "If everyone else shares this ideal on blogging as medicine, then how fucked up must the people in the world be that they need this little digital pill on a daily basis?"

I'd respond again , but I'd prefer to ride out the blogging high I'm currently on.

Searching for ideas

Finally got everything set for the website, so now comes the most relevant aspect of this so-called online journal--the topic. It's pointless to ask anyone to contribute suggestions, since the pragmatic side of me knows that no one but myself is really even seeing these words. Strange as that may seem to you, since you're reading this saying, "Hey what about me? I'm reading it." Regardless.......as I type this, there is no one viewing my posts. So, back to the point in question, "what to write about?" I suspect that I am not the first person in the world to ponder this notion, and certainly it's not the most profound concept I could be dealing with, yet just the same, it's 8:00am and you get what you pay for.

So my first official topic is......(obligatory drum roll)......... Anonymity. Wow! Hey, Glenn, that's deep. Now, wait a moment, before you click away on some random link, hear me out. There's the obvious argument that in today's technological day and age there is no such thing as anonymity, but I would argue against that concept. True, it's much easier to track someone down on the internet than it used to be back in the day, and sure Big Brother is watching everything you do, from your cell phone calls to your credit card purchases to your pay-per-view habits. But I suggest that all this points to is a big computer talking with other "less big " computers about insignificant data that has no correlation to "who you are."

You are much more than a database full of randomly calculated numbers and misorganized information. Your persona is deeper than the terabytes of psychological profiles housed by the CIA and FBI. Your soul and spirit are not shaped by your latest E-bay purchase or your RPG character on Everquest. (I will concede this last point on some instances based on individuals I know that live EQ).

My point is that while information on the internet may identify you and categorize you, it does not define you. Now I know you're saying, "Ok, that's all fine and good, but doesn't anonymity mean 'not having your identity known?'" Yes, but I believe the definition is more significant than just associating a name with a person. It's about the unknown; the character, the emotional constructs of an individual, the motivations and relationships of the person, not some sort of state of being that's determinate on whether your name is in a telephone directory. The quality and condition of your identity should be a result of your actions, and by this I mean something more substantial than signing up for the Columbia House Music Club.

I raise this idea, simply because I feel anonymous. Not just in the sense that most people in the world have no clue who I am, even though they might randomly access this blog or my website, but that people don't know me. People associate me with computers and the whole acting thing and my family sees me as a father, husband, brother, son, et al, yet I still can't help but feel unknown. This is obviously a result of my own choosing; my need to isolate myself emotionally and restrict myself from being vulnerable, but nevertheless, it is my choice.

So, now you have some insight into my idealistic world, and "No", this does not mean you now know me. I still claim anonymity despite your ability to Google me. I retain this privacy indefinitely, and no amount of Xanax will change that. So nyah!

First Blog

First Web Log. How very exciting for you. I will obviously have to come back and write more later. But as this is simply a test, I'm sure you can appreciate the need for me to actually test it out.

Cheers