What goes here again?

Ah. That's right.

Stuff. About things.

Having recently learned that I have an audience beyond my close friends, I suppose I've been a bit skittish about posting. The existence of this blog a priori implies a certain level of "pretentious-dickitry" that I don't consciously perpetuate but I'm sure gets perpetuated--then again, using the term "a priori" doesn't help, does it? I'm not sure I know why--except that I know exactly why--since I write nothing here that I wouldn't say in a converstation at Nick's or an IM conversation during 886. Evidently, it "takes a lot" to be this "open" about seemingly private matters or intimate thoughts, but I don't see this space as providing either a personal look inside my head or "private" life. I'm not ashamed of anything I've written here or embarassed or humiliated or any other words with the same connotation that I haven't learned. Really, I just have precious little spare time to share my thoughts with the people I'd like. Very seldom do I have time to talk epistemology with KGF, aesthetics with DFS, politics with AJE (a lie?), rhetoric with JML (yet again), or video games with ZER. (And when was the last time I talked to anyone about literature--besides Atlas Shrugged?) Then again, even if I do have time, seldom do I have the chance to share my thoughts in writing--which is, arguably, where I do my best thinking. Enter: Blogger--a place for me to almost literally gather my thoughts, work with them, have others look at them, and rework them at a later date. Repeat ad infinitum--that's another one of those academic buzz words. This space also allows me to break rules about paragraphs, spelling, and grammar. Screw you, Mrs. Banks! I don't have to know how to spell "kneel." The computer does it for me! (Those two exclamation points were specifically addressed to BRT! And a third.)

So why are you skittish? you ask, eagerly awaiting a ridiculously, and unnecessarily, long-winded response involving at least three more ivory-tower-laden phrases and reference to Ayn Rand.

Well, I've had nothing interesting to say.


For the first time since I was blissfully unaware of being "a fool satisfied," I can honestly say that am, and have been for a little while, "Socrates" satisfied. (The quote I just butchered was the only good thing Mill ever wrote.) This statement does not imply, of course, that I've figured everything out, that I've found the meaning of life and the key to happiness--which I have, it just doesn't imply it. (Oddly, the "key" to happiness is just to choose to be happy. Weird, eh? Not so much a "key" as a face-palm.)

When I have something to explore, I'll post it. Tomorrow? Perhaps. Late one night when I should be doing my 856 midterm? Even more likely. Before I graduate? Almost certainly. Ten seconds after this post goes live? I wouldn't bet on it.

Until then, go read other funny/interesting things. The intertubes are chalk full of them.