Month: April 2003

Although there are probably as many different ideas on what a blog is, and should be, as there are blogs, Dorothea and Jonathon seem to have two very different ideas about what the nature of the kind of blog I write should be. In other words, I’m not talking about linking-blogs, per se, or even private journals that appear to be meant for private consumption by a close-knit group of friends.

I think Dorothea accepts the more traditional (if you can have a tradition for something so new that it doesn’t even appear in a dictionary yet) concept of what a blog should be. In other words, she wants it to be a place where bloggers can honestly discuss important ideas of the day. Although these blogs may often start with the blogger’s technological expertise, they generally move out from this center to broader topics. Recently, these blogs have turned to political discussion, but by nature they seem more devoted to a discussion of life in general, oftentimes to a search for meaning in life. These blogs center on one or two bloggers with a peripheral group that recognizes but may not always link to other members of the same community. One of the strengths of this kind of community is a “shared wisdom” based on the individual strengths of various members. In order for these communities to function well, though, there has to be a shared trust.

That “shared trust” is based not only familiarity with other bloggers, but on the honesty of each of the members. After all, members often argue vigorously over topics of discussion and need to be able to trust that other members are honestly debating the issues, not using hidden agendas to promote other issues.

Jonathon, however, seems to be pushing for a new kind of blog, one that Shelley has recently alluded to with her shift from a technological focus to a literary focus. Since I’m unfamiliar with the Japanese literary tradition Jonathon refers to, I can only guess what kind of tradition he is aiming for. I suspect that whatever format he is trying to evolve will bear some resemblance to Kundera’s writing style in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, with it’s unique mixture of personal experience, philosophical exploration, and story telling, though this is, of course, merely speculation on my part.

I’m not sure that Jonathon’s kind of blog is entirely compatible with the earlier vision discussed, though it certainly shares a lot in common with blogs like Eeksy Peeksy, High Water, and You Live Your Life as if It’s Real. Clearly, though, it’s one thing to read Kundera’s novels, and something quite different to read an individual’s daily blog. Most importantly, it’s more difficult to trust what the author is saying when you know he’s making up much of what he writes about.

Perhaps, though, it’s not too different from what I’ve been trying to do here, using literature to understand who I am and what I believe. While I’ve always tried to stay within the boundaries of personal (t)ruth (Yes, Shelley, there really is a Gavinator), I’ve tried to relate my appreciation of literature to my personal philosophy and to my outlook on the political world. Truly, this is NOT a poetry blog, despite my earlier admission and others’ attempts to put me in that classification. I’m not teaching literature any more; I’m getting ready to die (NO, Dawn, Leslie, etc., not in the next few days, months, or, hopefully years) but I am merely trying to make sense of this life before shifting planes.

Unlike Dorothea, if I read her correctly, I’m looking forward to seeing how Jonathon’s blog proceeds, though I doubt I will ever be able to read it in quite the same way that I used to read it. I’m curious if Jonathon can successfully stretch the limits of blogging by intermixing fiction and fact.

That said, I’m getting off this soapbox and moving back into the shadows of my poetry blog again. If you want to read some excellent commentary on the limits of blogging see:

Language Hat
Gimlie
Alembic
Jeff Ward

Needless to say, I would find this topic much easier to deal with if I didn’t like the principals involved quite so much. First, let it be said that I probably am most sympathetic with Dorothea’s position. I’m not at all sure what is true in the world, but I subscribe to telling the (t)ruth, if not the (T)ruth, as much as possible. And, like her, I never read the “About” statement on Jonathon’s site. So, despite the fact that I received straight “A’s” in two years of grad school, with the exception of Deinum’s Film-Making Seminar, and despite the fact that I consider myself a fairly sophisticated interpreter of literature, I never realized that Jonathon was injecting fiction into his blog.

Like Dorothea, at first I was pissed off that I’d been deceived. Perhaps it was a mere EGO problem, and I was mad that I’d been fooled. After all, I consider Jonathon a “virtual friend,” and we INTP’s don’t have many friends. After limiting my comments at Burningbird’s site to a reference to the staging of the destruction of Saddam Hussein’s statue in Baghdad (and being rebuffed by the piss-ant comment that EVERYONE expects the government to lie, so it was irrelevant ((by the way, NOT EVERYONE expects their government to lie to them,)) I decided to go back to taxes and let these ideas fester for awhile.

Being an introvert, I wasn’t about to go blabbing all my thoughts in public. After reading numerous posts on this topic, I spent a few sleepless nights, caused NOT by my usual bad back but, rather, by thoughts bouncing off my head. Thanks Jonathon and Dorothea !! Just what I needed, another reason not to be able to sleep.

Mercifully, I’m going to limit myself in this post to just one conclusion, and I’ll finish my ruminations on this subject with a final post later today before returning to my official role as a “poetry blog.”

Personally, I understand and appreciate the anger Dorothea and Jonathon expressed in their initial posts on the topic. Both felt betrayed by a “personal,” if merely virtual, friend. Dorothea was angered by what she felt was an unjustified manipulation of her feelings and by the betrayal of an unwritten code of blogging. Jonathon felt equally betrayed to suddenly find himself unjustly skewered on the pages of a “friend.” Both of these expressions of anger, at least to me, were legitimate and acceptable responses to an unfortunate misunderstanding of what “blogging” meant to each other.

What I really felt was unacceptable, though, were the responses of some other members of the blogging community. While the Happy Tutor at least couched his criticism of Dorothea in humorous disguise, Frank Paynter of Sandhill Trek unfairly roasted her by suggesting that she isn’t quite ready for this sophisticated world of bloggers and “would perhaps be more comfortable in an online romance of the type that Jack of Hearts has described so delightedly elsewhere.” TRASH! PURE TRASH. I’ve seen few signs (oops, read that NO SIGNS) that his site is more “sophisticated,” or knowledgeable, than Caveat Lector’s site. No wonder Dorothea snapped back with such anger.

That kind of trash talk is unlikely to expand this discussion into a meaningful discussion of the potential of blogging and how we can reach that potential while avoiding these kinds of misunderstandings, or without undermining the discussion that Steve Himmer started earlier but which seems to have been overwhelmed by the furor over virtual betrayals. And it seems to me, that that is precisely what Jonathon was attempting to do when he pointed out that he has been injecting fiction into his blog entries.

Where the Hell is Shelley Powers’ calming influence when it’s needed?

Having finally finished tax season, I decided to treat myself to some new poetry books today. While the selection at my Barnes and Noble seemed somewhat limited, I did manage to select volumes by Ezra Pound, Marge Piercy and an intriguing volume by a poet that I had never heard of.

I’d never heard of James Galvin Resurrection Update: Collected Poems 1975-1997, but while browsing the book several poems immediately caught my attention. One of them somehow reminded me of the controversy that currently occupies my mind and my blogging entries:

Explication of an Imaginary Text

Salt is pity, brooms are fury,
The waterclock stands for primordial harmony.

The spruce forest, which is said to be
Like a cathedral
Indicates proliferation of desire.

The real meaning of the beginning
Will not become clear until later, if ever.

Things no longer being what they were,
Artifice poses as process,
The voice is tinged with melancholy.

The teacup, the brass knuckles, and the pearl-handled razor
Resist interpretation

As if to say
That half the wind is in the mind
And half in the mind of the wind.

Speaking through the character
Who comes to faith on his deathbed,

The author makes apology
For saying things he didn’t mean.
Little girl-cousins with ribbons in their hair

Confuse him with their names and are carried away
By laughter. Thus,

The force of love comes from belief,
Hate is from lack of doubt.
Paradox by paradox the narrative proceeds

Until half the stars are absolute tears.
The other half are mirrors.

While I realize this poem was intended to address a far greater problem than a temporary stumbling block in the development of blogs, there has certainly been a virtual fury as people have tried to “clean up” after recent revelations.

Perhaps it was merely the title that seemed strangely appropriate. Lately, I’ve been wondering if even I have been led to waste time explaining an imaginary text.

However, most of all, the lines, “Things no longer being what they were/ Artifice poses as process/ The voice is tinged with melancholy” somehow rings true. I doubt that the Kingdom of Blogaria will ever seem quite the same again, and I am overcome with a temporary melancholia for that lost kingdom, a kingdom, it turns out, that never was.

The “real meaning of the beginning” of this new form of blogging “will not become clear until later, if ever.” Though it may well be that a new form of blogging has begun, a form that will add new dimensions to this viritual community, right now it seems more like the end of an age of innocence.

“Paradox by paradox the narrative proceeds,” until it seems that “half the wind is in the mind/ And half of the mind is in the wind” and we are all uncertain how to react to truths and half truths that seem as ephemeral as the wind itself.

Although I’m usually more interested in finding an interesting webpage than reading a definition of a web page, I found the questions raised by Steve Himmer thought provoking.

I particularly like Himmer’s contention that

Time seems a crucial element of the weblog, and the possibility for change/adaptation over time. In other words, and this I think is the heart of the obliqueness question, there’s no need for the individual post to reveal everything about the author—if you want to learn something else, read earlier posts or posts yet to come. The weblog as a whole, then, is the work, not the discrete unit of the post—and the ever-expanding weblog, growing through posts, trackbacks, and links, never becomes a discrete unit at all.

The idea that the character of the author emerges over a period of time rather than being bound by a particular work, seems to me an important distinction between blogs and other forms of literature.

Of course, I may like this definition because it fits the kinds of blogs that appeal to me. In fact, blogs that don’t evolve tend to bore me. I’m not interested in blogs where the author obviously has a fixed, or opinionated, point of view. This may also explain why I don’t list many warblogs on my referral list. If you think you already know all of life’s answers, your views probably don’t interest me too much.

Even if you’re seeking answers like I am, your answers may not turn out to be the answers I’m seeking. At the very least, though, I will be exposed to new ideas. Without that exposure, how can I hope to find any new answers.

I also like Himmer’s contention that:

The weblog also can be characterized by dynamic authorship, even multiple dynamic authorships: every successive post or comment or trackback necessarily redefines and adjusts every earlier post, comment, or trackback. Between that and multiple routes of navigation–chronological, categorical, etc.–there is an infinite possible ways in which to recombine a weblog as a literary object. I, as author, can no longer tell you, as reader, quite how to read my work.

If I didn’t believe this, the last two entries, and this one, not to mention a few to follow, would make little sense as I attempt to find my personal response to the controversy over Jonathon’s and others recent comments about reality versus authenticity.

I suspect that the search for self is inherently redundant and incremental. It requires examining and re-examining aspects of one’s life in order to make sense out of them. I also suspect that re-examining one’s life inherently leads to inconsistencies in your story. It’s impossible to re-examine much of your life and not realize many actions were a mistake, and that much of what you used to think was just plain foolish, if not wrong. Of course, until you revisit these events and examine them, it’s unlikely that you’ll become aware of these inconsistencies.

That said, I expect to find such inconsistencies in the blogs I read. They certainly don’t bother me. If anything, they reassure me that my own search for personal truth is on the right path.