(About a 4 minute read)
In my defense, it was never meant to be a weapon.
It just sort of turned into one.
Some scurrilous people — people who know me all too well to be the sort of folk decent people willingly associate with — will say, “Predictably so”.
They will — all too gleefully, I suspect — point out that, as a writer, I am typically as reckless with my expressions as a drunken kangaroo stomping out grapes in a winery is careful with the grapes, and that it was thus inevitable this blog would quickly turn into a terrifying killing machine, fully capable of inducing in even its strongest readers a fierce, suicidal desire to plunge themselves full-face-forward into the nearest triple-D cleavage they can find — there to blessedly suffocate while no doubt whimpering the blog’s name.
Sure. Sure, I’ve heard it all before:
- “Paul Sunstone passionately pours into each and every post a vital and essential part of himself — and gods, how we readers wish the egotistical creep would quit jerking off to his own writing!”
- “Café Philos has been around for more than ten years now, during which time it has more than amply demonstrated the best years were the years Paul left it in hiatus.”
- “Paul has yet to meet a profound and engaging idea he couldn’t reduce to something shallow and boring, much like grass, passing through a bull, is inevitably reduced to manure.”
Yeah, thank you all for those nearly daily emails of encouragement! Albeit the majority of you have been encouraging me to commit myself to a retirement home, it’s the thought you care that sustains me.
So other than that, why do I blog? Honestly, it’s mostly for myself. But before any of you get Holier-Than-Teresums about how selfish that is, please consider: If I mainly did it for others, could I feel just as free to “do my thing”, my creative thing, just as true to myself as I can be — or would I be sorely tempted to pander to the crowd?
All my experience of life teaches me that art must be primarily created for the artist, least it be primarily created for the audience. And if created for the audience, it inevitably suffers from a lack of creativity — to say nothing of new and possibly useful insights. For me the playful joy of writing takes precedence over anyone or anything.
So there! I do not mean to actually offend anyone (except Teresums), but in frank honesty, I am forced to place you second to me. Sometimes I am tempted to revolt against that, but revolting against it is like challenging a law of nature — you can never do so on your own terms, so you must always lose.
On the upside, y’all inspire me. Genuinely inspire me. (Comments: Please keep them coming! You really need not make them “intelligent” or even encouraging — the mere fact you’ve taken a moment to say something is honestly enough for me.) But why do you inspire me?
I could be wrong about this (as my first wife said to me on our wedding night), but I have been to other social media sites on the net, and near as I can tell, the audiences are in general somewhat less well informed, less thoughtful, and often remarkably less considerate than you folks.
If you think I’m merely flattering you, believe me: I’ve left out the very best parts so as to avoid even the appearance of flattery.
And if you don’t think I feel genuine gratitude towards you bunch of fractionally-known readers, and quite possible petty criminals (if I’m any judge of people), then you’re sorely mistaken. And if you’re sorely mistaken, you should learn to use lubricant next time you read this blog. Just sayin’.
So that’s about it for me. Naturally, there are other, more minor reasons I blog, why go into hours-long detail? However, if you insist on learning of just one last real reason I blog — or at least, how I started blogging in the first place — please follow this link to a true-life but (I think) hilarious story.
So, let’s get to the often more interesting news: Why do you yourself blog? What are the top two or three reasons for that? And if you must send me nude selfies again, could you not be mooning me just this once?