DEVIOUSLY ANTI-SOCIAL

There are times when I'm absolutely convinced that I'm a social creature. And there are times when I'm more inclined to the opposite view. This is one of those times when I neither feel particularly adept at being a social creature, nor am I able to see much value to the pretense.

When you think about it, that is a very contradictory idea.

Man is, by instinct, a social animal. And mankind, out of all the social animals, has the best tool for interaction with others of the herd at his disposal: LANGUAGE.


Which, of course, I am using to write this, and you are using to read this.


Though I will not claim to be a gifted writer, I do flatter myself that I have a glib ability for language.
Just not the socializing inherent therein. I have scant social talent.


I am not good at being social and actually interacting with others. In bars and at parties, I am uncomfortable if required to converse with strangers (I dislike crowds of three or more), and even when surrounded by friends and coworkers I prefer to remain somewhat on the sidelines, listening, but not really part of the general conversation.
One on one conversations with another person I know well and like being the exception.
Though I have a regrettable tendency to talk your ear off.


I like corners, and nearly empty rooms.
Barring that, a seat with my back to the wall, out of the direct line of sight.
I'm really not social.


So at this point, I have to ask myself why I blog?


Well, partly for the presumed interaction - I create the text, and you the reader make it come alive, and leave your comments to let me know what you thought and that you were here.
And when I read the blogs of others, the same thing happens. It's a one on one conversation in a way. Like I suspect most bloggers, I like it when others leave comments here, and I like it when I have left a comment elsewhere and someone else reacts to that. Part of the deal is that we read each-others' texts, and provide feedback. Reacting and making noise lets us know that we aren't just talking to ourselves.


Even though it is far from actual real-life interaction, it has an attractive glitter and we see what looks like a human face through the fog, what seems a partial mirror-image of ourselves.


Now that last part is the dangerous part. The devious part, if you will. Because it may fool us into thinking we know more about the other person than we actually do, and it may trick us into believing that real social interaction is taking place. We may also end up believing that, warts and all, we have much in common and have a virtual community.

Which we don't have. Not a community.
It's more like a college faculty.
Except for the warts - we've got the warts.


We are the "experts" on something, we acknowledge each other's expertise, but our real and significant interactions are actually with the often textless outside world.
Which knows more than just one facet of our persona. But in no way recognizes our expertise (perhaps, because like the blogsphere itself, that expertise is only virtual, and only exists within the context of the blog).

We've only come together because of an artificial environment, and we're not really talking with each other. We're just saying our piece, and spouting odd bits of data.


What I'm saying is, I don't really know you, and you don't really know me. Much as we appreciate what we see reflected in each other's texts, or sense the sparkly bits of each other's personalities, we don't really know each other. The interface of the internet has fooled us.


I am learning that sometimes it is better to not actually know too much about the reader. Remember, I said I wasn't very socially talented, and there is something devious about the bloggish world.


I am probably not what you think I am. I'm not sure I can deal with your reaction when you find out, though. I'll probably assume that I've let you down, and feel guilty. Which is a completely ridiculous thing, because this isn't the real world, and anything resembling social success on the internet should not substitute for actual social interaction.



I don't know why I blog.
Presumably a few people read this stuff - some even voluntarily. But I don't know that, I really can't hear you breathing out there, much as I strain my ears in your direction (it probably doesn't help that I'm slightly deaf...., but that's assuming that you are actually breathing).
I sometimes think that the only reason some people read me is because I read them. Which is probably accurate. The give and take of comments on blogs is a friendly and relatively harmless interaction, a pretense at social vibrancy, and like all of such things, it requires a fair measure of requittancy. And, gallantly, here you are. For which I'm grateful.


But I shouldn't let it fool me into thinking that I'm social. I really should know better by now.


A blog is much like a mask - a pretty pink mask, easy on the eyes, but nevertheless a mask. Something held in front to hide one's face.
[One still runs the danger of getting slapped - it's only a mask. Not a shield.]


At least it's better than sitting out back with a rifle shooting varmints.