Thursday, May 06, 2010
Breaking the silence
Has my blog been quiet lately, or what? Last month, without really planning to, I took a break that quite frankly, began to look definitive. And this, National Poetry Month, no less -- both here and south of the border.
Work of late, freelance deadlines, tax deadlines, & personal stuff don't begin to account for my flagging interest. True, Facebook, and to a lesser extent Twitter, have siphoned off much audience and responsiveness... a phenonomenon that has been remarked upon by far more active and popular bloggers than moi-meme. This blog, like many others, has gotten quiet. Look at all the goose eggs after postings below. Attention here, as everywhere, as been fragmented, diluted, dissolved by the sheer excess.
For a long time -- five years or so -- I've posted and crossposted for the love of it, to contribute in some humble way to the store of knowledge and reflection, the availability of certain poems and poets. I've enjoyed the immediacy of layout, publication, and feedback -- the chance to hone critical skills, to write some things that evolved into articles elsewhere and even poems, to make some key social connections. It's been a good run.
But underlying the present ennui is a resentment: why should the Great Pharoah Google reap all the profits (and those profits are indeed gargantuan) while we cyberslaves toil to build their palaces and pyramids? Now that they're scanning & photographing everything under the sun and even much of what's beyond it, I'm inclined to tell them to go fuck themselves. And shove this humble contribution up their ass. As for me, I'll go off and read books in print, write books in print, write my diaries in private (where I can vent without the shit hitting the fan), and cultivate real friendships with people whom I can speak to and touch.
With that, I press DELETE!
Out, out, brief (electronic) candle!
Such fun, rhetoric.
For all that, I can still see that this blog will have its uses. I've enjoyed writing this, for instance. I've got a review coming up in the Rover: some poems I don't have room for there, I'll post here. I've got a few good posts in hand. Even as I feed the monster, I still find pleasure in sharing with whomever, whenever, through this medium. Yes, the slavemaster is gentle, if inexorable.