Am I the only blogger who avoids questions? Am I the only person who read a criticism in a print magazine (Time? Newsweek? The New Yorker?) of how bloggers tend to ask tons of questions in their blogs? Why is that a bad thing? Does it make the writing weak? Trite? Precious? Is it some kind of pathetic ploy to get readers to respond to posts? Are all bloggers that desperate for attention? Are we all kids who got picked last for teams in gym class? Did we all go through high school yearning to be the popular basketball player or class president or star of the school's production of Our Town?
Can we ever overcome adolescent need for acceptance and validation? Am I still just a pathetic teenager inside, still too insecure to ask the girl in chemistry class to go to prom? Isn't that the question all writers want answered: "Will you go to the dance with me?" Don't we write our poems or stories or blog posts or novels to get the thrill of having the pretty cheerleader or handsome cross country runner talk to us, laugh with us, make us feel cool? (Is there any way to make that last sentence parallel in grammatical structure? Does anyone care if it's in parallel grammatical structure?)
Am I just a blogger in search of recognition? Will I just keep asking questions until somebody, anybody actually responds to my pathetic pleas for human connection? Am I being too open? Too honest? Should I conceal this nervous, monkey-side of my personality? Or should I continue to eat my bananas, scratch my balls, fling my shit into the cyberspace zoo for all to see? Am I just Bobo, the well-hung chimpanzee blogger, wagging my hairy goods in the faces of all my readers?
Will Saint Marty ever be able to answer any of these questions? Is anybody out there?
|Is this cartoon funny or what?|