Wednesday, January 31, 2007

As it turns out...

...I'm not original at all. A google search on "Look at me" "I formed a blog" yielded 7 distinct hits.

Ah well. I never said that this persona would be clever.

On Voice

The strangest thing about this whole endeavor is the matter of voice. Of persona. I can say with some confidence that yesterday's post was written in a style that I don't normally use. I mean, obviously it's not my academic voice (thank God), but neither is it my epistolary voice, my fiction-writing voice, or even the voice I use in journals and the like. It is, instead, some kind of odd sarcastic hybrid that I really quite enjoy. Experimenting with it is giving me a greater sense of the appeal of blogging: the opportunity to be someone else, in print; to flesh out a manner, a tone, a style of speech that you enjoy but can't (or won't, for whatever reason) normally make public.

Clearly, anonymity is the key. Bitch Ph.D. has an interesting paper on anonymity and personas, and that plus yesterday's post have got me thinking about the weird freedom of writing under a non-name. I can be as facetious as I want, for example, and no one will care. Of course--and I hate to point out the obvious here, but it ought to be mentioned--there is the fact that no one is reading this. Because only two people actually know about the existence of this blog, and I think that they both get enough of me in real life that they don't need to go through these ramblings, too. However, at some point, someone might read this, but in the authorial present/near-future, it's unlikely, and pursuing this theme will get me into all kinds of tedious pronomial and temporal confusion, so I'd best change the subject.

--To lunch. I had one too many beers last night; some food is well in order. Accursed bartender! (Actually, one of the bartenders did buy the last round, so my vitriol is not entirely ill-placed.) Leftovers await. Followed by a four-hour bus ride.

Off I go, then--

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Formed A Band, We Formed A Band

If blogs are the garage-bands of the new millennium, it's high time I join in.

I was never in a band, actually, and I still see this as one of my great failings. I was once asked if I would play bass guitar in a death-metal band; not knowing how to play the bass, or being particularly attracted to the death metal genre, I declined. Still, I was flattered. Clearly the discomfort of my steel-toed combat boots paid off in the image department.

Not that I aspire to the reaches of such rockstars as the in the middle or bitch, but I do feel the...the pressing need for confessionalism, for ranting, and for a lot of pointless discussion of the details of my life that can no longer be sustained within my actual relationships. I like to make things. I like to talk about myself. I also have this vague fantasy that this will help me to engage in some kind of Academic Discourse of sorts--or, at the very least, get me to think about things and write about them.

I've titled this post after Art Brut's song of the same name. "Yes, this is my singing voice. It's not irony," Eddie Argos deadpans halfway through the track. Calling attention to itself through the putative denial of its very obvious irony--well, I can't help but think of how deeply self-conscious this post, and indeed much of the world of blogging, actually is. I'm kind of embarrassed to be writing here. Yes, I am embarrassed. I admit it. And I'm not sure how widely I'll be publicizing this latest endeavor of mine (or how long I'll actually keep it up).

So, in an attempt to surmount my embarrassment by claiming my actions--and "claiming" an action, or an identity, is a dare that no academic can resist--I'll finish this introductory post by appropriating the most triumphal moment of Brut's chorus:

Look at me! I formed a blog.