Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Truly Postmodern

It occurred to me that writing a blog, one that has no one reading it, is perhaps the ultimate statement of postmodern writing! I suspect that I'm not the first to reach this conclusion, but it's insightful nonetheless. Imagine if you wrote for an entire lifetime and your writing was never read. Would that be a nihilist's dream, or their most horrifying nightmare? Imagine if Shakespeare had written in the modern world and his writings had never been read! They would sit on a server in a digital miasma of information and never, ever be discovered.

I've often wondered how many writings of truly great significance are out in the ether, waiting to be discovered, but never are. Or how many works of significance are never written because some unseen hand prevents the potential author from ever actually putting pen to paper, or, in a more modern context, finger to key. On the one hand it's terribly sad to contemplate; but on the other hand, it makes you marvel at the possibilities!

I'm no Shakespeare, and I don't claim to be writing a masterpiece, but in my own small way, with an audience of one, I am contributing to the unseen oeuvre of the unread!!!

Friday, June 5, 2009

Postmodernist Blogging?

I thought it was about time I committed to writing on a regular basis, something that would challenge the pre-suppositions I carry with me on everything from breathing to working! A space where, for reasons of sanity, I could write in any manner I choose without censure or sanction in a place where the rules, or at least some of them, could be tested and pushed, in a manner entirely of my own making. A place where freedom of expression can be entirely mine, and where random thoughts and observations could become a part of my existence. Stream of consciousness in a place where, should others choose to do so, I can express myself in some measure other than in completing the required prose in the required manner. A paradise? Well, probably not; but at least a place where I create my own dystopia and live to witness the resurrection of a semblance of pleasure in attempting to restore a sense of equilibrium.

Does any of this make sense? Maybe not... maybe the existentialist in me is suffering, and the nihilist is whining! No matter... here I am, and the possibilities are endless!