I'm not complaining, mind you. I have come to appreciate Twitter very much. Twitter is like conversational haiku to me. But I'm sure it would become annoying if someone were to speak to you only in 5-7-5 syllable paragraphs after awhile.
You read what I write. I write whatever I please. I hope you enjoy.
See? Another sentence like that, and I think my skin might crawl.
No, I do enjoy my Twitter. I love even more that my better half is there also, although she doesn't have my zest or zeal for it. I do secretly wish she'd tweet more. Or, not so secretly.
I'm writing now because someone paid me a high compliment. Rob Dougan, a really nice guy and a musician who contributed to "The Matrix" and "Matrix Reloaded" soundtracks actually took the time to read through my posts and said "that guy can write." He's not the only person who's told me that (I hear you, Boo!), but he's a person who a) doesn't know me from Adam and b) is extremely talented in his own right. (My future Mother-In-Law also thinks I'm a helluva writer, and for those of you married you know what it is to have your in-laws think highly of you. Or to not think highly of you! =) )
I mean, seriously... the "Lady In Red" scene in the Matrix? When Morpheus was training Neo? That's "Clubbed to Death". That's HIS joint. They used it in the trailer for "Ultraviolet" too.
So I felt like that was a blog-worthy occurence.
The other reason is I stumbled upon the blog for Mike Choi. For those unfamiliar with who he is, he's most famous for his work on WitchBlade and X-Men. I thought I had a mouth. I love this guy's blog. He really gives you a peek into the inner workings of his mind, and it's an entertaining romp. I liked him before because he created X-23, I like him even more because I think that we are kindred souls, at least as far as expressing ourselves through writing is concerned.
I miss blogging when I don't do it.
I guess I understand the difference between those born to blog, and those who choose to blog. I've said before that I would do this if no-one read these. I'm not blowing smoke up anybody's ass when I say that, I mean it. The reason being just because nobody is reading them right now doesn't mean they won't be interesting to someone else later on. I used to journal when I was a kid. Due to my nomadic existence (I've actually had occasions in my youth where I went to multiple elementary schools in one calendar school year), I don't have those anymore. Had there been an internet when I was in school, I might have chronicled some of those stories here for the world. Trust me, some of the things I've done would have been perfect scenes for movies like "Superbad", or even "Menace II Society".
But I do love blogging.
Someday, I won't be here. I will move on to whatever comes next... and when I do, I'd like to know that my words, my pure unfiltered thoughts and beliefs will remain, and anyone who cares to know what I felt, how I thought, will still be around and available for anyone who cares to know. I don't know what they'll think or how they'll feel about it, and that's not really for me to know or concern myself with. It will be what it is. Hopefully they will glean some understanding of what it was to live in what feels like quite remarkable times. People all over the world are a part of this digital tapestry. Never in our history have people been able to connect in the ways we do today.
I haven't blogged about the events in Iran, or the changes in the Gaza Strip that are taking place right now, but I do watch them intently. They are echoes of the changes on the horizon. Iran doesn't want to be cut off from the world anymore, and the leadership of their country seems dead-set on holding them back in a period when the thought police held them in check. Iran's youth (in comparison to the spiritual leaders, people all around my age and younger) don't see the world as their leaders do. Their blogs will, or should, be a part of the story years from now when people talk about the digital uprising, the revolution that took place on Twitter.
I don't want to overestimate my own dignitas (thanks for that one, Mike), but then again, I don't want to underestimate it, either. People like myself are the reason we changed history in electing Barack Obama, through word and deed (you best believe I vote), and we continue to shape the world everyday by simply choosing to speak.
The people of a democratic society are unique in that they have perspective on what one voice means. Afghanistan is experiencing that for themselves through "Afghan Star", their equivalent of "American Idol" (or "Pop Idol" from Britain, if you want to be technical. They came first). Not only are some of their women "voting" for the first time, women are risking their lives participating as contestants. Literally risking their lives. When the Taliban was in full swing in their country, music was outlawed. Now people are singing in the streets, and I don't think they are going to be able to put that genie back in that bottle. These changes are powerful events to those of us who are scholars of history. Why do you think it was illegal to teach slaves to read and write? I'll put this in a term that's used in the Hood: You'd do better if you knew better. Ignorant people are easily controlled. Those with knowledge can envision better.
So in an effort to make my ramblings coherent, let me attempt to sum this up: I love blogging because it's my voice amongst the din, and someday someone will tune in to my frequency and maybe find the courage to say what they think and feel. In the event that my Life-Plans come to fruition, I will be of moderate interest to people I'm not related to in any way, but will impact nonetheless. If you're reading my blogs, I hope you see yourself in the same light. I'm reading your blogs and being inspired all the time. Just like others, I'm not always commenting, but I'm reading. Like the sign in the Oracle's kitchen, I hope you "Temet Nosce", because that's the only way others can share in what it was to be you, because there's truthfully no one like you.
-ere'bodee's favorite mega, blogninja