irst of all, why?!
Why did you come to the About page? (and, separate question, which I don’t expect you to answer: Why so many hits on this page?) I mean, you know that I know that you know that I haven’t finished a book or any films or produced a “meaningful” cultural artifact or anything um, you know, “interesting” or “enjoyable” or “good”; and any description you read here on this gratuitous ‘About’ page will tell you only what I want you to know! Hardly impartial and unbiased: The description comes straight from me and, by way of introduction, would (I think) tell you nothing perfectly true about, for example, the articles and essays here. Consider this plausible introduction:
The writer was born in a particular place, under certain circumstances, and in a particular year. The writer lives in a place. The writer doesn’t keep a cat as a pet…
…etc., etc., etc. Never mind. Let’s start over. I’ll tell you what I think is relevant about me. I have some persistent ideas about reality and, consequentially, some hopes and goals in mind when I start a project. Most of the time, a hope is exchanged for a resignation and a few goals multiply into many impossible tasks. Life is short and the days, shorter still. [Note: Yes, you should be following these links. You’ll thank me later.]
You still with me?
Within these shortening days and deferred dreams, I’m suspicious about the existence of time and morality and language and even of certain notions like justice or a-theism. I get irritated about popular forms. I like to turn popular propaganda inside out (because I can) and chip away at stupid repetitions on the fringes of the popular zeitgeist, albeit with self-conscious futility. I have ideas about duty, daydreams of weird thought experiments about strange kinds of immortality, flights of imagination in which I identify a little too closely with the plight of a Seminary faculty in the Cult of Persephone; and get I distracted about defining half-full glasses while wandering the market.
Well, I’ve written all of that! Whew! How much more do you know about me except that I clearly don’t have a copy editor and I veer dangerously close to run-on sentences quite too often and use semicolons like I understand punctuation?
In other words, you know not much more now than I know about myself.