Ain’t lookin’ for a fight

Got an email from a friend today who had looked at my blog, expressing strong opposition to my political opinionizing. (Friendly opposition, I suppose. Not sure.)

(Hey, there are a lot of nice non-political things on here too...)

As i said in my earliest post, this is a monologue, not a dialogue. I don’t have nearly enough time or brain for it to become a dialogue. That's why I’ve chosen the “don’t allow comments” option on all my posts. I respect the opinions of all my friends, even the ones i don’t agree with—as long as it’s clear that their opinions are thoughtful ones.

Some people relish the battle aspect of online debate. The WWF smackdown—“ooh, i guess he told you!” factor. I think people are willing to be much more savage online than face to face, more so if they don’t know you and have a screen name to hide behind. like masked lucho libre wrestlers, but without the sense of humor.

There’s far too much screaming going on now. Not looking for more.

This is my little world. I rule here. I’m allowed to rant, gush, laugh, show my art, or my ass...and as long as I’m not doing anything obscene, nobody can piss on my parade or try to tell me what to do. I’m not trying to offend anybody...but I’m not trying to NOT offend anybody, if you get my double-negative drift.

I subscribed to the New Yorker for years. Although I wanted badly to always read all the articles, reviews and editorials and interject “Did you SEE that biting piece in the New Yorker!” into stimulating party gab, more often than not, I just looked at all the cartoons.

If you just want to look at my blog occasionally for the pictures, please do that. The writing is mostly a little ongoing digital vomitorium for my own mental health. It’s good for me...it helps keep me sane...it’s cheaper than medication. If anybody enjoys any of it, well that’s gravy.

Peace to all ya’ll.