Fifth of July

Creeper that I am–someone once called me an “information whore,” which was not meant kindly, but it works–I do enjoy reading blogs and getting a sense of the individual’s life from the small hints of personality smattered in posts. This may be the purpose of blogs themselves, but this new media stuff is all ambiguity and flying whales. What gets upsetting is when you try and take a different perspective and ask whether you’d actually be interested in meeting this person had you just run across them in the real world (I had to go back, delete irl and write the longhand out). More often than not the answer is no, but that’s probably true for old school writers as well. I bet Orwell was a real asshole.

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