Clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing.

The development of some kind of actual blog has seemed inevitable for quite a while. Once I got started in with the habit of regularly writing, and all of the concomitant paying-attention-to-the-world … well, I can’t stop now. Words are far too fun, and the fleeting expectation that rendering one’s thoughts to the public will automatically yield some kind of audience is … seductive. MySpace isn’t really the proper platform for all of this stuff, is it? I should grow up, shouldn’t I? Join a “more adult” conversation?

I know not a damned thing about the “blogosphere,” and this cultural illiteracy is a slight cause for concern. I don’t actually much like entering into conversations in which I am so alienated from my interlocutors. Apparently I’m supposed to be paying attention to the blogs of others? Commenting on their posts? Participating in some vast, meta-referential, much hyperlinked, and often contentious conversation? The prospect makes me anxious.

I like the idea of posting, of slapping a chunk of worked-over writing up onto the virtual corkboard, and leaving it there for others to find. Perhaps I will quickly proceed from wading in blog-waters to being totally submerged, but at this point such future developments remain … contingent.