Ktismatics

16 February 2010

Moderation Tuesday

Filed under: Christianity, Culture, Psychology — ktismatics @ 8:31 am

So the Catholics invented Carnival and Lent, Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday, the cycle of excess and fasting, of dissipation and self-abasement. The Anglicans kept half the wheel but got rid of the other half. They even turned Fat Tuesday into Shrove Tuesday, “shrove” being the past tense of “shrive,” which means to obtain absolution for one’s sins through confession and repentance. I thought that’s what Ash Wednesday was for.

Carnival celebrates the last days of eating meat (carne) before lent, so Mardi Gras is traditionally a carnivore’s delight. Shrove Tuesday replaces the pig roast with a pancake supper. Those Anglicans sure know how to party.

I think maybe Shrove Tuesday ought to be celebrated as international WASP day. But let’s not get carried away.

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17 Comments »

  1. I woudd support such an International WASP Day, of course Especially since it’s already International WASP 364 days a year, that’s why other types are allowed to misbehave on certain special days, and then go back to all the WASP days. The Super-WASP writer Louis auchincloss died a couple of weeks ago, you ever read any of it? Some of it’s good, as ‘A World of Profit’. He knew all the Wall Street power brokers and the lawyers, etc., these types of WASPS pride themsevles on ‘not taking much food’, as ‘a few roast potatoes, a piece of cold meat’, bullshit prim talk like that.

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    Comment by quantity of butchness — 16 February 2010 @ 11:02 am

  2. John – When I saw the title of the post, I thought you meant you were going to start moderating comments only on Tuesday.

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    Comment by Asher Kay — 16 February 2010 @ 9:41 pm

  3. How would Catholic commenting work? A string of comments filled with rage and ecstasy, followed by regret and apology, repeated in endless cycles. Well I guess we have seen some of that.

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    Comment by john doyle — 16 February 2010 @ 10:13 pm

  4. followed by regret and apology

    and some cash

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    Comment by Asher Kay — 17 February 2010 @ 8:01 am

  5. According to this article, that fast-y moderate-y thing isn’t workin’ out so well for the English these days. Maybe they need an Anglican revival.

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    Comment by john doyle — 17 February 2010 @ 8:11 am

    • 3.How would Catholic commenting work? A string of comments filled with rage and ecstasy, followed by regret and apology,

      I’ve always been amused at Catholics’ inability to resist sex when young as compared to Protestants. I once read that virgins in England were, if not on the rise, still much more prevalent than American Virgin Phenomonology. Most of my friends are Catholic because of this guilt-ridden but free added that always allows fornication to relieve the pain of life. I am exactly like these Catholics, of course, and have no allegiance whatever to the Protestantism I was brought up in–if I ever feel sexual guilt (I don’t think I ever do), it would along French or Italian lines, not Protestant, which seems to have a different kind of anti-sex, anti-pleasure compoenent. It has to do with the voluptuosness of all the art through the centuries, the music, the opulent churches, the food, all of it. Catholics like pleasure, and then feel guilty about it. Protestants rarely overtly like pleasure, and even then feel guilty about it, unless it’s insufficient, which is considered suitable. Well, it’s important to make stereotypes about all groups, you know. Maybe in having absolutely no affinity for the tackiness of Methodism I grew up in, it seemed easier to just throw off all that stiffness and rigidity by starting with imitating Catholic models, but being able to throw off Catholic guilt, just because I was only lightly familiar with it. Catholics are totally fucked up too, but last night I dreamed Christian and I were having lovely ‘Israeli food’ with ‘Marsha’, one of my dentist’s assistants, so I guess in getting International WASP day 365 days a yeas, I have become less anti-semitic as well as realizing that I, as a converted lapsed Catholic, can still enjoy the privileges of 365 days of INternational WASP Day, even when I meet a young ‘pure type’ from Ireland, as yesterday, who immediately assumed I was a sexual predator: While this is true, that ‘fresh from the farm look’ I’m way too jaded to be interested in. I’ve had lots of Irish-American friends, but the few ‘pure Irish’ I’ve met had not even had the most minimal sophistication, so there are some more stereotypes. With my name, people think I’m all Irish, but I’m the usual Southern hybrid of Irish, English, Welsh, etc., so I just think it’s important to keep St. Patrick’s Day as the one day the Irish can misbehave in their craven drunkenness. No wonder I’ve always been such an Anglophile (and I mean ENGLISH, not Scottish, although I can’t resist Welsh, that’s HOT), and a Francophile, a Germanophile and a Grecophile and an Italophile. Oh gawd, the ‘innocence’ on that 24-year-old’s face. I have no idea whatever what he’s doing in New York, but this was through another friend. I think he is a 24-year-old virgin. St. Augustine would have been envious.

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      Comment by Quantity of Butchness — 17 February 2010 @ 9:03 am

  6. The book that comes to mind is Bataille’s Accursed Share and his notion of spending accumulated wealth in order to keep the life forces circulating. As I recall he talked mostly about so-called primitive cultures, but Catholicism tends to work this way too. You sin, you go to confession, you get absolved, you do your penance, and then you’re free to start all over again. Bataille was Catholic: per Wikipedia, “He initially considered priesthood and went to a Catholic seminary but renounced his faith in 1922.” That shit tends to stick to you, and it surely gave him some insights.

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    Comment by john doyle — 17 February 2010 @ 9:36 am

  7. You forgot to mention DOT PALIN’s interchangeable excesses between unsafe fucking and Monday morning guilt rituals like driving all the way to goddamn Phoenix just so Taniter could have her favorite Lego toy.

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    Comment by the voice of parodic reason — 17 February 2010 @ 3:18 pm

  8. That would be a good parodic illustration of the Catholic pattern, vopr.

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    Comment by john doyle — 17 February 2010 @ 3:50 pm

  9. I’ve finally got material evidence of my escape from the bloggers’ conspiracy against me, and that means it was real–because I was expecting at any moment for something really serious to happen. If I’d given out certain information, I’m fairly certain it would have. But I was suspicious as recently as last night. That’s why it was never paranoia, my suspicions were fact-based–it was just a matter of figuring out whose ‘friendships’ I could do without. The central engineer of this may well have employed ‘useful idiots’ in this, what a fucking stupid project though. I don’t know why they thought they could make me behave, though, just put it in different form that they’re afraid of. I just send them emails, but old threads like that business at traxux don’t matter a fuck to me anymore. People either learn what human beings are or they just talk about ‘humanism’ at a distance and stay nerds. So it is strange to be released from this long paranoia without the ‘derailment of horsepisser monologue’ by the prime ‘hero’. Not that I am going to write such things here, of course, anyway you wouldn’t allow it, this is just to update and finish that part. It’s true I won’t have a forum as at Dejan, but I was giving out too much info anyway, and he won’t give me deleting privileges.

    There are things I wouldn’t even email, except to Christian. Most I did email you, as you are the only blogger who really convinced me of your real integrity, although I’m not sure you find that such a compiiment coming from an unrepentant roue. ‘They’ were right about a few things, but not most. What ‘they’ mostly were furious about was not something that was culpable, although some of the old gossip was, I guess. Not that many of them didn’t deserve that too. It’s a strange mentality, the blogger one, and I don’t think it possible to keep it from capturing you in certain ways. And much circular thinking always comes back. we even have Arpege apologizing ‘for her part in the ugliness’ of that old thread, which I imagine was brought up and linked by traxus for purposes other than what he says. But that I dealt with, and have no further interest in it. If Arpege and Nick want to write love lyrics to each other, I might enjoy that, for example. Socialists seem to have no personal loyalty whatsoever, just some sort of ‘vague humanism’, and individual mistreatment doesn’t matter, no matter how serious. In other words, despite all my gossip, much worse crimes have been perpetrated against me, and some of the newer modes of dishonesty I have run into offline this week in other matters which give even better examples of this slipperiness and total lack of solidity as the times proceed forward.

    There really is something fundamentally fucked up about the most fluent and glib theorists and philosophers being weaselly and without personal courage. How excuse such moral cowardice? And being a perv like me doesn’t mean I’m a coward, because it’s one of the few things I’m not. I wonder if that was what the attacks were all about, the desire to derail me because I wouldn’t ‘cooperate’.

    Although it was you, John, who finally made a blog period that had many facets and textures and layers to it. I don’t know why the fuck our friends Mikhail and Asher and Carl and even the vicious Dejan aren’t writing anything. Come to think of it, were you just sick of blogging? How interesting that the ‘Martin Thread at Traxus’ would come full circle, and release me from it, while renewing for its earlier ‘tenants’ the same circle. But I released myself from it in emails. Have you not thought about this, in this weird saga starring primarily me and ‘Old Nick’? The game cannot be played unless it is FORCED TO STAY ON THE BLOGS THEMSELVES. Now, say, if I wanted to write Asher or Carl, I wouldn’t think a thing about it, I know they’re real people and they aren’t suspects in this crap which was all done covertly, INCIDENTALLY, the most important part is that the conspirators REALLY DID FAIL, and believe me, I didn’t think they had. There were moments when I thought I was fucked from this idiocy. There was never any sense of reciprocation, except with you, and also in recent comments made by Asher, although I don’t know him too well. Even those I told you ‘helped me’ are still very suspicious, but I just don’t care. The spell is over, and I can still write if I want to. There should have been some way to make me commit suicide out of the fear and paranoia, but there wasn’t a means found once I caught onto the dead seriousness of the game.

    Okay, I don’t mean by writing this here all of a sudden, that I plan to ‘use your blog’, this was just an update on something that I had to largely work through myself. But most of the ‘parody work’ Dejan and I did was much more wicked than my own personality and that was what came under fire–my pride, vanity, etc., and that didn’t work. In fact, I DO recognize some of the wickedness of the parody of at least some of the talented bloggers, but I still don’t see that it was deeply harmful, as the Dot Palin business really only made us discover a writer with serious talent. As Styne and Sondheim wrote in ‘Gypsy’ “Some people got it and make it pay…some people can’t even give it away..” Well, the latter i don’t regret my unkindness to at all, this stupid pretension at ‘wanting to be an artist’. A new friend here–a top art model girl from San Francisco– was over this afternoon, and we were talking about this totally weird tendency, which I think only started in the late 90s of young people literally saying things like ‘I’m going to be an artist’ or ‘what I really want to be is an artist’, as though you didn’t know that already, and as though you would get it (as with that literary blogger I loathe) by talking about it as a psychotherapeutic exercise, instead of fucking rolling up your goddam sleeves and just doing it, the way you do, and Dot Palin does, and Dejan even, when she quits being so ridiculous. Dejan has talent, just bristling with evil, of course, but she is nice if you keep her caged…

    Aren’t you going to write us up something brilliant. I mean, I have just needed to sum this up, so that it can be publicly read, since it was ‘as if not going on’ when all those ‘love lyrics’ were being written by me ande all the ‘anoniems’. You alone read it with some closness, and that was truly admirable. I’ve had a rewarding week since Mardi Gras?Shrove Tuesday, even though it wasn’t very WASPY. This new friend wants to go to NYCBallet in the spring, and I’m going to take her, maybe we’ll see that nice lady who took me to that ‘Swan Lake’ on Sunday. There was some good stuff in it, it wasn’t as bad as I’d been told, but the Prince was this example (and I wrote this on the ballet board) in dance of the New Flaccidity in Literature we were recently describing.

    This isn’t purely self-indulgent, most of the time I’d just email you, but this has reached a conclusory stage and can’t be reversed, no matter how many fucked up identities go to work trying to revive that famous old thread at traxus. I just don’t care. I put it here this once as a matter of Public Record, because it was a serious online/offline situation, and was meant to cause great harm and was very dangerous. I didn’t know it was over till today, and so Jack and I went to Julius’s and celebrated. I kept telling him he looked like Gale Sondergaard, that Oriental ‘mystery woman’ from ‘The Letter’ with Bette Davis. He HATES that, and I can never resist it. Have you seen that movie, John? The opening with Hette charging out with the gun is maybe my favourite scene in all goddam movies. Bette is so fucking hilarious. Also, we discussed ‘Night of the Iguana’ a lot at the ballet board recently. These would be good for discussion if yu wanted to. I need to get another copy of the ‘The Letter’, though and re-watch it. Okay, hope you’re well, and maybe enjoying some of the other blogs–you’ll notice I never interfered in my infamous way with Levi’s blog, but I know that I don’t know what I’m talking about in those spheres.

    But people really are developing new modes of speech in which an overt dishonesty and wheeler-dealer approach (keeping you on the hook just as an exercise, not even as a necessity, for example) are being developed. I ran into this in some activity offline this week, and it is literally almost everywhere in the blogosphere. Good for you (and even me, who isn’t nearly so model a citizen) for resisting some of that fake shit. Thanks for your tolerance.

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    Comment by Quantity of Butchness — 19 February 2010 @ 6:20 pm

  10. “The game cannot be played unless it is FORCED TO STAY ON THE BLOGS THEMSELVES.”

    Harman likes to throw around unwarranted bullshit about how anonymous bloggers are unrepentant sociopaths, but there is a distinct danger of such things happening. Email exchanges can get vicious of course, but they break through the inhuman objecthood of blog-only correspondents. Many people value the distance afforded by the virtual; I don’t. That’s not to say that I’d want to become BFFs with all blog associates, and I’m probably more self-protective than I need be. But some lowering of the guard, some courage as you say, alleviates the sociopathogenics of the blogs.

    I may get back to the movies eventually, plus I’ve been amassing a large stack of library books, both fiction and non, that call for more attention before I have to return them. My enthusiasm waxes and wanes of course, which doesn’t mean I’m bipolar but that I have some range.

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    Comment by john doyle — 20 February 2010 @ 11:00 pm

    • My enthusiasm waxes and wanes of course, which doesn’t mean I’m bipolar but that I have some range.

      That’s great.

      Yes, I happened to read Harman’s thing on that, and do agree, of course, that some of the dangerous things do happen. Once in a while he comes up with something astute, as in hie reply to a ‘deeply dedicated philosopher’, making the difference between the ‘philosophical’ and the ‘social’. I thought a clever use of the latter word–not that I think he seems especially exemplary in that respect, but the whole thing of the philosopher not needing to be an exemplary human escapes me–not least with his ideal and/or idol (he probably doesn’t understand idols, although I couldn’t worship God without them, and, of course, Satan alone makes that possible…I mean, it’s clear God saw a lot in him until he declared independence.

      I actually got enough attention span back to watch a whole movie straight through–‘Queen Christina’, which is Old Deep Hollywood at its absolute best. I’m sure you know it, but seeing it again, I think, all things considered, it’s Garbo’s best film. Not great in the way ‘All About Eve’ is, but simply spectacular in the best sense: There is Garbo several years after her love affair with John Gilbert and near-wedding (she bolted just as the ceremony was commencing, as I recall), and I noticed him much more this time. Most think ‘Camille’ is greater, but Robert Taylor is just not quite as convincing as Armand as Gilbert is with his big face as Antonio. I had not noticed the hilarious camp that is Christina, now known by the envoy to be the queen of Sweden, saying to him ‘For-geef me for being a queen!’ And she is amazing throughout, doing things no actress has ever been capable of, whether of stage or screen. It doesn’t matter that some of the conventions are silly, but there are only three or four films she made with really strong leading men, one with Gable, one with Taylor, one with Boyer. But Gilbert, with whom she’d also done a silent or two, is here so good it doesn’t matter how little else he did (and died only three years later.

      It made me remember what Gloria Swanson, who really WAS Norma Desmond, said: ‘We didn’t need voices. We had FACES’.

      Yes, but Swanson/Desmond didn’t have THOSE faces. Wow. It’s a great picture.

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      Comment by Quantity of Butchness — 20 February 2010 @ 11:45 pm

  11. I love the voices/faces quote. And no, I’ve not seen Queen Christina.

    Today I had an online conversation with a postmodern type who insists that nothing exists except what we agree exists. Harman would have been someone useful to bring into the discussion, but I had a sense that he would add credibility to the discussion only because he has attained a degree of celebrity. I enjoyed this conversation, and I think it’s because it involved someone who is entirely disconnected from this circle of theory blogs, who all know the same moves and countermoves.

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    Comment by john doyle — 21 February 2010 @ 12:15 am

    • Then you must see it (and I ought to watch ‘The Man Who Would be King’, yes, NYPL has it). The last frame of ‘Queen Christina’ is one of the most famous in all film, and last night I thought ‘that IS Helen sailing’. There’s also a long scene in an inn where Garbo is dressed as a boy, this is when she first gets to know the Spanish envoy, John Gilbert. They are going to take a room together, and this is after all the gossip of the peasants is about how many lovers the queen of Sweden has had. Finally, after about 15 minutes of real time in the room itself, Christina takes off her outer jacket, and Gilbert said ‘It HAD to be!’ And even before that, a chambermaid had flirted with Garbo as if a man, and told ‘him’ he could find her at the end of the hall ‘if you need anything’. Gilbert says ‘she preferred you’. They spend 20 minutes of real time in the public part of the inn before even going upstairs. All of the male homosexual plus Lesbianism tints and shades go way beyond all the loudness of ‘Victor, Victoria’. But since their conversation is very talky (unusual for big entertainment of the time and really just for Hollywood, period) and in inn and room lasts about 40 minutes, it even recalls (although preceding) Rohmer’s Ma Nuit Chez Maud. Rohmer died last month, I re-assessed his work as I see it, and find it pretty one-dimensional and too bourgeois after awhile; the best films were, I thought, in the 70s, and ‘Claire’s Knee’ really is quite enchanting. The they all blend together and repeat themselves, always middle-class pretty people with terrible problems facing them, such as where to take a holiday (as in 1986 ‘Le Rayon Vert’, a fucking stupid film except for this one marvelous moment on the beach at Biarritz, and this funny Swedish girl, but you’re supposed to find her ‘vapid’). But there’s nothing in Rohmer that ever ascends to the great moments in ‘Queen Christina’. Jack used to follow Garbo around, I can’t believe he did this; finally she noticed him, and he stopped because it scared her. I saw her once on the street, she always dressed in a man’s coat and was clean but scruffy-looking. Her power during her reign in Hollywood was pretty fantastic, she could get away with anything, and it really was because she was that good. Interesting that she and Dietrich were the two biggest ‘screen goddesses’ of the 30s, and were yet both European. My father thought neither was beautiful, and I think it strange too, that in naive America of the Depression, that they could have been so successful. Of course, there was Mae West, Loretta Young, Claudette Colbert, Gable, Cooper (very American), Bette Davis, Barbara Stanwyck, and all those Busby Berkeley musicals with Ruby Keeler, etc., for other audiences. Katharine Hepburn was already around, but that was a different sort of thing. Marlene was nothing of the actress that Garbo was, and for me only really achieves greatness on the screen when she sings, which is very singular. I was surprised I liked ‘Queen Christina’ as much as I did, though. I’ve usually preferred ‘grand Hotel’ and such other hokey Garboculturalproduct.

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      Comment by Quantity of Butchness — 21 February 2010 @ 9:37 am

  12. one of the things that must be obvious, but I haven’t seen anyone write about, is that ‘time lapsed’ on blog-writing is very different from real-life time-lapsed. My absence at CPC used to be noticed after two days, and even in recent discussions here, there would be talk about how ‘nothing much is going on’ after a few days or just a week, maximum. That’s pretty strange to me, since it is a totally different sense of what is expected to keep up communicatin than phone calls and visits in real-life relationships, which everybody, even the most hard-wired internet nerds, knows works differently, except maybe those who don’t have anything else.

    the emails, as you’ve mentioned, and I have, usually prove the difference, as a kind of ‘intermediary’. With the few bloggers I always have email relationships with (I mean when it goes both ways, not just part of the blog game, an adjunce, as it were), that makes the difference in terms of reality or respect, at least from my viewpoint. If a person ‘continues the game well’ on emails also, it is not so depleted and stupid. But if the emails cannot be the primary form, not the blogs, between two parties, then it’s worthless to me. And so some think they are ‘heroes’ for having kept it on blogs alone. Well, sure, they may seem like heroes to themselves, and in some cases, that has been proven to be enough. That’s again, like the meeting of matter and antimatter.

    And so, we find, that in Dejan finally answering his new ‘official correspondent’, he has accepted him, he doesn’t care what the monikers are, and will accept them as if they are the ‘real thing’, even though the same person is writing all of them. That’s fine. I haven’t written there in two weeks, and now, with mutilation posts that only the ‘other correspondent’ would think are funny, I have no intention of bothering with such shit further, they finally can be married, and maybe even search out the video ‘The Devil is a Bottom’. You see, things have changed a lot since the Greeks: Bottoms now think they are superior to tops, while longing for the good old days when they could manage to think their tops weren’t women with pricks. They still think they can have their Cock and not have to be a top too, but that remains to be seen. ‘Bottom’s revenge’ does not work when you never were a real bottom, just a virtual bottom. But this is probably not serious to most, after a certain age, I think, many people are still just interested in this virtual contact, although they aren’t nearly all like that. CPC is purely virtual, and jokes can be made about all sort so mutilation fantasies, just because the perv was Slovenian. So that’s what I’m supposed to ‘be sore about’, since the new corresponsdent has finally been accepted hook, line and sinker. And that’s good, because I think the very esseence of Socialism is two bottoms left alone with each other and realizing how deliriously happy they are. Some of us may not like the idea of death, since life is so much fun when you can afford it, but it’s still better than pretending that something happens beyond typing and exchange of ideas on blogs. Sex, for example, doesn’t happen on blogs as per myself, unless it’s a kind of foreplay leading to real meeting and fucking. Not that these kinds of trolls don’t want to interfere with your offline life–that’s part of the vicarious living that people ‘without lives’, as they themselves are always talking about, do: In interfering with real people’s offline sex lives (and attempts to ;interfere with their finances), they get a further vicarious buzz, since their own lives are so dull. It’s just a matter of how clever their writing is how long it lasts. After it’s concluded, as has mine with ‘Old Nick’, on CPC, then they look elsewhere, although whether they get better quality or not is really of little concern to me, since I don’t think you find ‘quality sex’ in talking about it in virtual or cartoon terms. Once was enough for me, and all it really ended up doing was making me lose respect for someone I didn’t know was just a clever nerd. A ‘clever nerd’ is still a nerd. At least Dejan understands me now. OF COURSE I find traxus more attractive than nim or his new correspondent: I’ve SEEN him, and he is not wanting in terms of charm. What it means beyond that I have no idea, but at least it was a ‘real thing’. This talk of ‘fucking’ by various bloggers is fucking idiotic, and that can always be supplied, seemingly, by the endless fantasies of the bloggers who think this is an existing thing, maybe even a ‘really real’ thing. I don’t.

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    Comment by Quantity of Butchness — 22 February 2010 @ 3:40 pm

  13. For the most part my email contacts with people I’ve met on blogs have gone well, though for the most part they’re sporadic. I think I’ve always responded when people get in touch with me, and most of those to whom I email proactively do reply. The ones who don’t are usually understandable: one-post-only commenters, people who aren’t very cordial on their own blogs.

    I think it sometimes surprises commenters when I email them, since they think that putting an email on their comment is merely a requirement to eliminate spammers. But each comment shows up in my email as well as on the blog. It’s also possible to triangulate in on where a commenter lives, or at least where their ISP is located. So, e.g., if a comment shows up at 3:40 p.m., I can go to the Sitemeter data and look for hits to the blog that took place at that time, then see which one clicked onto the post where the comment appeared. It’s like being an undercover surveillance spook.

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    Comment by john doyle — 22 February 2010 @ 6:01 pm

    • Yes, that’s interesting, but I suppose you got what I meant. Bloggers start talking about very short amounts of time having passed as ‘someone having left’, etc., this used to happen to me after 3 days or less. But it was equally true here, even if conditions weren’t volatile and hellish as those were. It seems like a ‘blog convention’, and probably points to how tenuous and insubstantial most of the ‘relationships’ are–the seemingsly ‘intense’ ones don’t last because they never really existed, so new fuel has to be thrown onto the fire for there to be any buzz at all. And then the desire to continue in the old ways disappears, because things really do change and people lose interest. I used to leave CPC for a week or ten days, but it wasn’t because I wasn’t still somehow involved. That was obviously paradoxically a resistance to the medium. The only other one which is somewhat emotional, but much less driven, ia also much less conflicted and never has too much anguish (although not so much else perhaps either), but it doesn’t have just nothing.

      I imagine you find out a lot about the linguistic changes that are occurring in people’s new forms of lying offline that come from trying to communicate through these electronic media. Of course, my stalker has never been in any way honest, and never intends to be. I have no idea why he keeps writing shit that is aimed at some response to me, but the only way I broke the cycle 100% was to leave out all the important stuff, and email him in response to his blog comments, as if the email was itself just a ‘comment response’. He’ll finally stop that way. And his attempts to quit making me talk about my prick have not worked, because he also uses one of the cock blogs, and he’s not capable of getting into a self-righteous fit there, since the point is all ‘praise cock’, etc. Sometimes I respond to him there, but nowhere else. Those aren’t intimate, though, and I usually report them to someone else, as examp[es of the continued idiocy of this kind of trolling. And THAT kind of trolling–which goes so much further than the kind that merely ‘irritates’ Harman–loses all that hypnosis when the possibility that the real-life identity no longer even matters. You don’t care if it was three people of whom you are well-aware and have mostly known (with the DV exception) in other more direct ways. As this kind of troll, the final development is to prove to you that you won’t miss them now that you’ve stopped all attending to their little troll identities, because it doesn’t leave a sense of ‘residual despair’, it just evaporates, and seems, on hindsight to have been like any other time you spent on the computer, except that it’s impossible to imagine it ever having any appeal again. Such posts that sign in as ‘Hero, Not Criminal’ you just observe with astonishment, that someone would live that way. It is interesting how this story has NOT interested the bloggers, though, because it’s in that 14-month ‘relationship’ that you do see how the medium cannot convey anything important if it is seen as an end. Actually, I’m sure a lot of them were watching it, but their own passivity showed how little substance all of it had. And probably had something to do with fear of the perp. I don’t know, and don’t have to worry about it, since I found the crawlspace and don’t mind living in a state of war. When you’re hated, you get used to that part, and I have no intention of changing the reasons I was hated. I don’t really hate the stalker even, anyway the point is, it’s a different kind of experience when there is an attempt to totally fictionalize a relationship over a long period of time. You just reconstellate many of the same things you were already doing so that the perp can’t find them. Sure, it’s disillusioning in a sense, because you feel that you have to be more and more secretive, and even entertain the possibility that not one blogger was ever totally not involved in what is clearly obvious. So that even the best of these relationships, including those with emails, are put in a perspective which is proper, and actually always obtained, in that they are fully subsumed.

      MEANING–my stalker, for example, always thought my offline friends were ‘not important’, or maybe that was part of the game. When he said some 3 weeks ago ‘DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT EVERYBODY IN THE WHOLE FUCKING WORLD LOATHES YOUR GUTS UNIVERSALLY AND WITHOUT END!’ or some such rot, he was, for example, only referring to people in the blogosphere as ‘the world’. He didn’t mean anybody I see offscreen. And that I have seen a lot of: people saying ‘you have no friends’, and they are always referring to your ‘online friends’ only, not anybody else, as if the real ones are the ones that don’t count. I know I sound as if I’m repeating myself, apologies for that, since I know you see the contradiction in ‘virtual intimacy’ (there is none, of course), but just that these odd phenomena like the short times in real time being interprested as ‘long times in blog times’–as when you did that post on Mikhail about a month ago. But how much time had gone by, a week? I talk to my own sister no more than once a month, and we don’t see it as that much time going by. another friend out of town, maybe 4 months goes by, we don’t see that as much time. If Christian and I don’t exchange emails for two weeks, we think not a thing of it. So it’s a matter of ‘disrupting hypnoses’ on blog communication. Once you do, then somebody just watches while the old hypnotist flails about, or just makes the usual mundane, flat gesture or less.

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      Comment by Quantity of Butchness — 22 February 2010 @ 8:24 pm


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