I sit again

behind the obscure safety of a darkened room, with the sun coming into it’s own once again — and I ask “What shall I pen today?” Having just completed my third (and final) all-nighter of code manipulation and wrangling, I return to what I have come to realize as what truly drives my passions. Writing

To think that what I put to digiSpace is anything outside of haphazardly, yet carefully crafted prose would be ludicrous. Ah yes, another misnomer in the making (which tends to happen more that I care.) I do however find an affinity in following a crafted style of a monomyth (aka Heroes Journey ). This is certainly not from attempts to attach myself in some manner to the hero, as it if often just the opposite. I prefer the role of the antihero. Much like that found in writings as far back Homer’s Thersites, to that of a modern era in the works of Jack Kerouac, this positioning is seldom seen as a team player.

As disclosed in prior offerings

I and the methods employed are often seen as snarky, sarcastic , critical, and caustic. Yet I deeply identify with these attributes — and with little regard, make spirited attempt to inflict my perceptions into unsuspecting, or unprepared minds. No, my goal is not to cause pain. In truth, it is a paradox. I aspire to be lifted from the abyss.

It is not a matter of being disobedient or rebellious. It is simply realizing that I seldom listen to lessons presented, and lay beat and battered — like Icarus contending [faced] with his foolhardy arrogance and he raises his hand to Daedalus for hopes of some salvation, redemption, or a measure of grace. It is the desire to move beyond feeling that I am nothing more than an imprint, a stain of impurity, cruelty, or excremental refuse on humanity. Likewise, this approach, is fueled by my perception that the things I feel are inherent, indwelling, and certainly definable in all of us.

The Rub
As is the case, this style of writing exposed to the greater googol-goo comes with challenges, and at times I am directly and violently cast back to earth by the reactions of others. No longer am I freewheeling bits and bytes, but faced with answering another. This happens, and today was no exception — thanks to Christine DeGraff

As part of a series of previously presented items, I respectfully (?) pinged her (among a short list of others who have in fact been personally influential and inspiring). Yes — I was guilty. Of pandering. Of an overt attempt to solicit a response. What I got:

“Hi Owen Ellis. I feel compelled to comment as I have only plussed on your last several posts and I fear a plus without a comment may be worse than not plussing at all.”

“Did I only plus so you wouldn't have to feel the silence? (The dreaded influencer silence… although isn’t it presumptuous of me to consider myself an influencer?) In that case, am I handing out my plusses like candy to pacify you?”

“Did I plus your earlier posts to indicate that I appreciated the mention you gave me (respectfully)? That I agreed with what you had to say? Was it a way to acknowledge the posts without having to actually taking the time to read and formulate a reply? Or is it that I read the post but secretly felt I lack the brain capacity necessary to keep up with you and the others who seem to have mastered a level of communication that I fear I have not yet and am unlikely to achieve?”

“Is not plussing a form of not seeing? A way of avoiding having to comment? A way for me to keep my mask on so as not to be revealed as ignorant, uninteresting or uneducated? Is it authentic of me to only comment when I feel I have something intelligent to say and can offer a meaningful contribution to the conversation?”

“If you had not mentioned me, forcing me to see, would I have plussed? What gives you the right to force me to take off my mask when I can easily hide behind it and pretend I don’t see?”

In all fairness to Christine,

and as disclosure of sorts, she has “plus’d” past things I have presented, and the entire offered entry can be seen here http://goo.gl/SUOrUJ

The stark reality this morning however, is that Christine, just slapped me in the face. The phrases of “No Soup For You” and “Knock Knock Puddin’ Head” resonate as a bile quickly rising up my throat. I had just been spanked by the very methods I make use of!

There have been other minor exchanges as well, and as the case, I probably am not following along with the class when Christine DeGraff (along with Ronnie Bincer) expel countless hours producing and offer methods better suited to reach out to others in the #TNTBootcamp series (the most recent episode here: http://goo.gl/LUCn3X).

This Course of Action of my making (and Actionable Results) is THE LESSON for me as a writer. For me to continue my exploitative and exploring aspirations of γνῶθι σεαυτόν — “Know Thyself,” it means I must also subjugate myself (hopefully with a semblance of humility) to the lessons and comments of others.

“Why the Hell is ‘Herding Cats’ here then?”

First, this has got to be personally, one of the funniest commercials I have ever seen. But the lessons presented are not lost some days on my attempts to share my prose in a much larger social wilderness.

I, in many ways, am not different than that of the “ten thousand wild short-hairs” depicted, and there are those long before me — quite capable, and Battle Scar Tested who can masterfully reign in that wild hair I have up my ass today!(Obviously, Christine comes to mind, as does the past challenges offered by David Amerland, Grizwald Grim, and a few others — who I respectfully choose NOT to ‘ping’ here, but they know who they are).

So, as you sit down yourself, ready to fire off your advice, comment, or ? for the day — are you prepared for the response that you are SOLICITING (and the lessons thereof)?

Note: The entire trilogy presented thus far, titled “The Perils of Writing in Social” is originally inspired by ‘The Dark Side of Social Media?’ offered by Iblis Bane (http://goo.gl/vLyDSo)

#disseminatingseeds #essaybyowen