Once more unto the breach:

If having a laptop computer has accomplished nothing else, it has at the very least facilitated a habit of writing. Even if I don’t write as much on that which should be written upon, I am storing my thoughts in an encoded, physical (however virtual) form. Furthermore, it has encouraged (through the use of the over-hyped and misunderstood medium of the blog) the publication of said thoughts in a more-or-less public forum. (Doesn’t to publish analytically imply a public forum?)

That said, the thing that annoys me most about this newfound tendency is how blitheringly inane most of my posting are. How truly, witheringly vapid the inevitable (not-so-nice term for some disgusting bodily function) which dribbles from my fingers. I mean, here I am, with a brain the size of a planet, a philosopher’s unending quest for truth, a psychologist’s obsessive need for deconstruction, and I am keeping the same monochromatically-indistinguishable-from-the-rest-of-the-blogosphere’s wimpish, narcissistic posturing. Only with bigger words and harder-to-comprehend turns of phrase.

Maybe I’m not as smart as I think I am. Maybe all I really am is a frustrated poet.1

I suppose to be fair I do have my fair share of overlong and genuinely existential posts here. And I have a few more over at my LJ. But I think that’s part of my point: nothing here accomplishes anything, except satisfying my narcissistic need for emotional exhibitionism. And a forum for my expressive virtuosity.

I’ve never been one to define my activities in terms of others expectations of me, whatever the psychological reality about my personal sense of value may be. However, I do want to do something here, or if not here, then in this medium. And because of the Sword of Dam-dissertation hanging over my head, I can’t justify devoting intense thought to such projects (however much time I spend writing here that I could be spending on the effing book report.) However, I am wondering, what does the audience want?

If you’re reading this, then you very probably know me; and if you know me, you’re very probably at least capable of scoring pretty darn well on a Mensa entrance exam, if not downright becoming a member. I’m willing to open this blog, or another, to a group effort, for a more discussion-oriented, interactive experience. Iron sharpens iron and all that jazz.

My topics of interests are, obviously, philosophical, psychological, and political (the three p’s?) and I know alternative opinions to mine are always beneficial to my own thinking. At least two of my (occasional) readers have Blogger accounts, and opening one, even if just to participate in the Jonathan intellectual blog. In the absence of a physical coffeeshop for bullshitting with possible value, a virtual coffeeshop.

Any takers?

1 Note to poets: I am not denigrating the intelligence necessary for writing poetry, nor its potential as a vehicle for social change. I am stating that poetry is defined by the way its vehicle, namely language, is crafted: poetry is first and foremost art, whatever its other functions or capacities may be. My self-criticism is that I seem to be more concerned with art and expression than with those things that are purportedly important to me, e.g. analysis and education.