Blogging With Myself

"Dancing With Myself" is a euphemism for masturbation, or at least that's what I learned from some article in Rolling Stone magazine when I was an impressionable teenager and Billy Idol was one of the most popular artist in the early days of MTV.

There's a part of me that truly believes blogging is masturbatory. We share our lives and thoughts and feelings and interests with a world wide web that mostly doesn't care, though we've somehow convinced ourselves that what we share matters, and that there are those people out there who DO care.

But it's impossible to fool oneself when there's really is nobody out there, which by and large appears to be the case with HOT POOP. But before you, dear non-reader, come to the conclusion that I'm just feeling sorry for myself, I should point out that I come across many blogs like mine that appear to be trapped alone in a vacuum of indifference, and so there are sooo many of us who are blogging with ourselves, and the only question I ever ask, again and again, is why do we keep on doing it?

The only answer that even approaches some sort of sense is absolutely Cartesian - by blogging, even when nobody is paying attention, we at least confirm our very existence, and I guess that's important. I blog, therefore, I am.

So, I'm posting this Billy Idol video, and I'll watch it again, remembering a time when the internet didn't exist, and my friends would pass me in the hall at school and say "What's shaking, LaRue?", cuz LaRue was one of my nicknames back then, and it was proof that I existed and maybe even mattered. Ah, the follies of youth.

Hotcha! Hank