matching tracksuits

Every single blog in the Western world has been reflecting lately on the significance of starting a new calendar year. I, for one, elected to abstain.

It’s probably a good idea. I suppose there too much reflection is almost an oxymoron, unless you’re facing a life-and-death situation. Which few of us ever face, thankfully.

So I’ve taken the start of a new year as an opportunity to do the opposite: stop reflecting. At least here. A short break. A breather.

A goal of posting daily for an entire month seems simple enough. In reality, with a three-year-old and house, I’m discovering it’s quite a trick. A day of wandering around Ikea after a night of insufficient sleep makes it seem relatively insignificant.

“What’s the big deal?” I ask. “I’ll just skip a day and then the pressure will be gone. Back to normal: three or four times a week.”

Then I think perhaps that is a post in and of itself. Part of the circular nature of posting daily on one’s own site: blogs tend to foster posts about blogging just as poetry tends to lead poets to write about the act of writing. It seems relatively insignificant and somewhat egotistical, but I don’t care. It’s almost eleven; I’ve posted for the twenty-first day in a row; I might be cheating, but then again, maybe not: I make the rules around here.

Is it cheating to post at 12:16am and count it as the previous day’s post? After all, for my consciousness, it’s the same day.

When I kept a journal religiously, I often fretted about this. “What date should I put on this?” Perhaps “fret” is the wrong word. Or maybe it is: when I was in Poland the first time (96-99), I wrote daily. One entry was along the lines of “I’m just writing this to keep my string of entries going.”

I guess this is something similar…

One of the most popular websites – judging by the number of comments – is Michele. It doesn’t take long to figure out why: her blog is not about herself exclusively, but also asks engaging questions, like a good host.

Gregory Stock beat her to it, though. I first discovered his Book of Questions (Amazon) when I was in high school. As one Amazon reviewer’s son said, “This book doesn’t have any answers, but it sure does make you think.”

The Book of Questions is just that: a book of engaging, sometimes provocative questions. From the introduction:

This is not a book of trivia questions, so don’t bother to look here for the name of either Tonto’s horse or the shortstop for the 1923 Yankees. These are questions of a different sort — questions about you. They are about your values, your beliefs, and your life; love, money, sex, integrity, generosity, pride, and death are all here. Some of the questions are indeed “heavy,” and some of them are almost jocular, but they are all mentally stimulating.

Rediscovering it on my bookshelf a few days ago, I realized that this is basically a blogger’s idea book written before the advent of the Internet, let alone blogging. It includes questions that, when honestly answered, could improve any blog, especially one like MTS that is growing staler by the day.

What I propose, then, is this: simul-blogging (the term, from my perspective, started at “Ocean”:http://ninacamic.blogspot.com/) to answer selected questions from Stock’s book. This would be different than merely commenting, as participants would not be initially influenced by others’ thoughts. Instead, we all write about the same question at roughly the same time, with a given date for publishing it — something along the lines of “Marginal”:http://marginal.typepad.com/ And “Fallible”:http://www.fallible.com/ do, but on larger scale.

Any takers? To begin with, perhaps something on the lighter side, banal even:

Question 120: Would you accept $10,000 to shave your head and continue your normal activities sans hat or wig without explaining the reason for your haircut?

My own answer will be posted on Friday 11 February. If you join in, paste the question at the top of your post, then leave a comment for Monday’s entry with a link to your answer.

A wise woman once wrote,

I, too, am saddened by so much of what I read in blogs, and comment threads are even worse. It’s as if writers are grabbing the mike and running to the stage without having once practiced the song they are about to force onto the audience. At first it seems funny and then it just seems sad, desperate, irresponsible.

Raging, inarticulate personal attacks in comments and posts are becoming all too common.

There are blogs that are devoted just to criticizing other blogs. And it’s not just attacks because of political views, but attacks based on, well, anything that doesn’t suit the “reviewer.”

There are also bloggers who go around biting ankles in comments.

Regrettably I’ve done both. This post is what’s left after all the spittle has been wiped away and people began talking civilly.

“It’s easy to tear down than to build up,” said my mother (though I suspect not just mine), and the truth of that is becoming more and more evident in blogs and comments. A few examples show the childish creativity we employ (and I’ve included my own comments in this list):

• don’t feel bad because you’re dumb
• as obviously immature as you are
• It’s called symbolism–does that elude you? I know the topic of my post did.
• lots of passion here and lots of anger but not much reason
• the world may not miss you
• These people are cowards
• So as to be clear — we wish there to be no misundertandings — you are an in idiot. While I’m sure you have plenty of self esteem and the trophies to prove it, you remain an idiot.
• Have fun in Poland, hope you aren’t Jewish.
• a mean spirited, self-centered liar, spreading small-minded insults
• I cannot believe there are people like you out there, but then again, you are from [location deleted]
• Damn! In the above post, some idiot forgot to edit before he sent [...]
• She is articulate; you are not. She is thoughtful; you are not.
• When you grow up and enter the real world you’ll realize that common sense and rational judgement [sic] will take you a lot farther than anger, bitterness and sarcasm

There is a full range of personal attacks and libel here. There are subtle jibes:

• “Does that elude you? I know the topic of my post did.” naturally implies, “You’re a dolt because you didn’t understand my post.”
• “When you grow up and enter the real world” implies, “You’re childish now.”

There are not so subtle jabs:

• a mean spirited, self-centered liar, spreading small-minded insults
• I cannot believe there are people like you out there, but then again, you are from [location deleted]

There are nuclear strikes:

• don’t feel bad because you’re dumb
• as obviously immature as you are

And at least one hinted at something much bigger than a personal attack: “Have fun in Poland, hope you aren’t Jewish.”

Some of these comments were catalysts for others in the list, so it’s easy to see how things can spin out of control.

We attack; we get attacked; we retaliate more viciously than we were attacked; one of our friends sees the tangle and jumps in to help — soon it’s a playground brawl.

The problem is that the blogosphere is messy. It’s part of the aptly called “the web,” so it’s inherently difficult to track everything down and find out who indeed did start. By jumping in, as I have foolishly done, we may end up attacking the attacked when we should have turned our backs on the whole mess and gone to hang out at the swings.

“If you can’t say anything nice…”

Another problem is that the internet is essentially anonymous, and thus emotionally free:

People have no hesitation at being ugly over the internet simply because there is no cost to them. There is no personal investment to online discourse. The lack of personal interaction allows people to be as ugly as they want to be…which is often pretty ugly (Robert Fenton)

It’s like the crank calls my friends and I used to make back in the eighties when there was no caller ID and we were simply voices on the other end of the line. We can create whole personas on the internet, complete with false pictures, names, stats — everything. And in that liberated, new “us,” some of us show the darker, more immature sides of ourselves more often than we do in person. We’re all split personalities, as role theory points out, but the online personality can have a bit uglier voice than the others.

“I always think it is a shame when people stoop to personal attacks on other people, no matter what the medium” (Renee). My crank calls were never not so vitriolic as some of the things I’ve seen in comments.

In the end, it’s obviously better to sit back and watch the cat fights than to get involved. Sound advice for myself, a bit too late.