What’s going on here?!

As I was saying...This is my second blog; the first one is Discipline Deficit Disorder. “DDD” is a place I park my fiction; it is subtitled, “Shouldn’t you be working on something?” Two things about this blog here: its title reduces to the acronym T’DAI, which serendipity I discovered only after the fact. And its subtitle (“Go on about your business; don’t mind me”) is of a piece with the subtitle of my other blog: both express my impulse to divert the attention of any casual browser away from whatever might be discovered in their pages. I contemplate both subtitles and soon I see: I have some kind of problem with getting caught. 🙂

And that, in the proverbial nutshell, is the problem with blogs, for me. They are “too” public! I can’t think freely in the “Write Post” space; I self-censor, and end up saying nothing terribly interesting. Blogs are the wrong venue for me, as a composition-place. They are good for something, but it’s something else.

Judah Schwartz taught me always to ask, 'What is it a case of?'The kind of Good that a blog can be good-for (for me) is the kind of good I get from laying out a nice turn of phrase — having partly to do with the basic urge to make work, and partly with vanity when the work pleases me. Blogs, therefore, are for things that seem to me relatively “finished” — which is to say, things that I have worked over until improvements have stopped suggesting themselves (which really has more to do with my stamina than with the state of the prose). A blog serves (me) best, (today,) as a kind of trophy case for the display of the vivid anecdote, the graceful rhetorical crumb, etc. Blogs are of a class of Goodness with other things whose merits lie obviously (and sometimes entirely) on their surfaces.

But the more satisfying Good, the one I am always after, the one that blesses me deeper down, is messier, and risky-feeling; it is likely to answer a knock on the front door by opening a side window, and it often shows up (inappropriately) half-clothed — or (rather) clothed half for one occasion and half for another1. To get that sort of Good — me & my nervous little language-maker, we needs our Privacy.

Perhaps it’s the times I grew up in; I began as a pen and paper writer. Then in college for a while I cranked out stuff on a typewriter — an old, blue Smith Corona electric typewriter that I probably still have somewhere. Then in the late ’80s when I was living in a big grey farmhouse and sheeping and audioing, I used a Tandy 1000 to write and send email over a 300-baud modem to my Internet (Compuserv) friend, Rick Stone, of Tampa. And I discovered, in so doing, that I thrive on the page when I believe I am writing to someone who appreciates what I say and how I say it. So here’s the weird thing: I may need my Privacy to put words together, but I also need a Muse.

Yet another fun physics game for writers.A blog is “out there” in the world; a blog could draw an audience. So a blog has that potential — as a venue for thinking as one of the plastic arts — thought made to a form, thought made to cut a particular path through the air, through time. Thought that is capable, actually, of assuming multiple, varied forms. Thought Expressed, in other words — extruded, drawn out of one person’s mind by the inexorable, gravitational pull that is exerted by an Other mind drawing near.

Gawd, banality! Everyone know intimacy generates a pull. Mistaken for magnetism, is it actually gravity? Physicists speak of a “weak force;” I wonder if this is in that class, because this force is so easily disrupted — by lapsing faith, by feeble trust.


1(Like the female students who are told to “dress up” to present their Capstone projects at our annual Scholar’s Symposium, and arrive in club attire and sensible shoes. [Go Back])

5 thoughts on “What’s going on here?!

  1. Sadly, no.

    I had a woman come in and ask if, while she was at the grocery store, I’d watch her ferrets.

    <DIGRESSION>
    Ok. I have now (July) spent two full months living with my weakness for this assertion and I find that even now, I cannot read it without bursting into disabling, hysterical laughter. Worse: I compusively and immediately run my eyes back to its beginning and re-read it. This has begun to interfere with my daily life. I feel my capacity for adult behavior is severely compromised. I am disabled by this assertion. Cut it out.
    </DIGRESSION>

    And damned if she didn’t pull two ferrets from her bag. I declined then she asked if she could leave them in her unit. Again, request denied.

    I don’t know, it’s an opinion, but I think that trumps handcuffs on a city street.

    <DIGRESSION>OK. now it is effing SEPTEMBER and that line STILL cracks me up. That’s some potent funny-maker you got there, b&g…</DIGRESSION>

    <DIGRESSION> And NOW it is YEARS later (2014) and once again, I burst out laughing, aloud, when I read that line. If you could weaponize this thing I would be looking forward to Armageddon.</DIGRESSION>

    <DIGRESSION REDUX>Seriously, B&G: you’ve got something here. Or had something. It’s 2016 and this still cracks me up. Hello? Are you even around any more? I miss you b&g! Come home!</DIGRESSION>

    Like

  2. That has nothing to do with it!

    I just echo what David says. Cuts down on that pesky thinking thing.

    But, thanks for the link and kind words but it has little to do with me. I’m just a reporter. Such as, last night I’m heading to the studio for a shoot and these kids are walking towards me. One of them stops in front of me and says,

    “Do you have handcuff keys?”

    He turns half way and, damned if he wasn’t cuffed. I looked at him for a moment and said,

    “No, but I can take you down the street to the police station.”

    I don’t think he liked my offer because he walked away. What did he think? That was the weirdest thing to happen in my day?

    you mean it wasn’t?

    Like

  3. I like this post vermonter. You really make the ineffable nature of blogging so much more “effable”. 😀

    Two words: HAH!

    Effing nature…
    🙂

    Like

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