Witch trials and coffee breaks
Anonymous invites me to give up on Blogger already and join Yottabite. The invitation thereby destroying his anonymity, by the way.
Join? Well, I sort of did join, actually and lurk around under an older assumed name that provides me with about the same amount of anonymity as he has, if you read over three words of any entry.
But join? As in join? Another group? Officially? Blather on for virtual miles about my endless ill-considered opinions, crack-pot theories in shared space? Post poetry, some of it quite awful, and all those little fits of despair and inappropriate amusement? Vent politically incorrect sentiments where the other citizens have to put up with me hogging the bandwidth?
I am certifiably paranoid when it comes to joining. I suffer Unreasonable Fear of Groups. There is always the suspicion in my mind that at some point, during the coffee break of a meeting or gathering, when I am trying not to spill pastry crumbs on my shirt, the entire group will turn to me and announce that I am to be hanged momentarily. If you've read Kafka's, The Trial, you'll understand this. Or if you've attended an impromptu lynching or witchcraft trial lately. Or if you were kicked out of Campfire Girls. There is a certain basis for this fear. And that is - I am guilty. Completely and utterly guilty. Of something. I just know it.
The closest I come to identifying with a group is here...in this little circle (including the Yottabite folks) of bloggers and friends.
And then there's the fact that I wonder the Yottabite folks put up with my hit and run entries, as it is. Considering the generation gap of 90 years between the rest of the members and me. And you know how we get. Oh yes indeed, we are just full advice and eager to share the teaspoon of wisdom we've accumulated in a gallon size bucket of words. Besides, no one likes a smart ass.
But here's the thing - at the very same time I'm looking to see if the get-away car is available, I am genuinely touched and pleased to be asked.
Go figure.
posted by LJ @ 9:38 PM
5 Comments
5 Comments:
Heh, that mr. anonymous, whotta fella!
I'm not sure what you believe "joining" Yotta would entail... it's not so bad. Check out how we've steamlined the process:
-We've scrapped the chicken sacrifice (I still owe String $40 for carpet cleaning).
-We've lost intrest in the Roman Orgies, I mean, we'd have to see each other naked, and that'd be no fun. We'd just be holding the wives back really...
-We've given up on regular posting. What is this, a fucking blog? Naw, more of a soapbox. A soapbox in a remote field in southeaster Scotland. Hear me roar, two squirrels, clump of peat, and dead pheasant!
-We, well I, have givin up intirely on spellling. I'll edit the shit out of a post for content, repetion, and cadence, but can't see a "thier" or a "theif" to save my withered soul.
So howza 'bout, whenever blogger crapped out, or you just feel like it, throw something up on Yotta? Or, just continue to keep us rolling in the aisles with the comments.
-marko
The other reason I keep my own blog (mine, mine ALL mine)is that it prompts you & String to comment at times when you are totally ignoring Yottab. and there's no sign of you over there!
Hah, Marko's anonymous comment! Too funny! As for me, I kicked my own self out of Campfire Girls after one meeting. That group thing! I was just looking at an old 1991 calendar (redundancy there? whatever...) and noticed that I stuck with the Inner Child group through four meetings. And you know how many toys I ended up with! ;-)
Hi Jess. Yes indeed. That Marko should be writing, or so I tell him. But a lot of the time, he's using up good material on comments here.
I remember feeling rather surprised when they threw me out - and a little relieved. I was surprised at how personally the adult "Girl" seemed to take my constant talking and laughing with the others.
ehehehe, I just found this one.
What I meant was we could get you a real website and give you the iron first to control the whole thing!
It would also allow REAL comments without some crazy lettering!
hardyhardyhardyhar.
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