POST MODERN BLOGICIDE

i have had a couple of stalled attempts at blogging in the past few weeks. none of them felt right, so, i stopped. mostly, i suppose, i was questioning my own motives and i guess i didn't see them as relevant, genuine, or valid enough to keep going.

then, there were moments when i felt like killing endurance animal and moving on to something else. if this blog is about my secret fantasies of being a writer, then why not write something for real? maybe i have exhausted all my angles when it comes to endurance, and lord knows, i don't want to just become another athletic exhibitionist... i am not that good....and no-one cares.

then, last night, while resting on the couch with my wife, i found myself soap boxing a bit about how animals outperform us in every way in terms of strength to size, but we, as humans, were built for endurance. we are endurance animals. suddenly, i saw my blog as relevant once again, as having something to say, something to contribute philosophically (oh God, that is grandiose!).

of course, i was just tired and buzzed enough to have self serving apprehensions of self-worth, but, by the light of day, i still feel like blogging and, so, in the end, it doesn't really matter what anyone else thinks. this is all me.

which brings me to a few comments about post-modernism, social media and blogging.

that which lies on the other side of post-modern deconstruction is none other than personal narrative.

yet personal narrative is just that. personal. what is it that can be proven, what matters to me more than my own personal experience, and what is more relevant than my personal experience of myself???

so why bother blogging? why should i tell you about my latest podium finish?, share wisdom about equipment, or try to entertain you? and just who the fuck are you anyways (to quote the who).

i certainly don't blog because i think i have anything unique or brilliant to say. and that is not my fault. there is nothing left brilliant, different or unique to say...that is the great freedom and tragedy of life in the post-modern era. we are all equally, brilliantly banal and devoid of any meaning other than that which we ascribe to ourselves.

no...it is because, in spite of myself, i am a social creature. i speak to some invisible social other. you. the audience. whomever you may be. i reflect myself on you in order to experience myself more clearly.

but that is not it either. when i considered committing blogicide earlier this month, i thought about those who i often write for. do they even know? joe, in guatemala, whom i feel close to every time i see hits from that country. peter in germany,  jeff somewhere in the orient, ian in california. my wife as she sits on the toilet at night and wonders about the inner workings of my psyche.  i know you have all read this blog before. i write to you. for you. this is my facebook. it is just that i am too pretentious and evasive to actually be on facebook.

so, i could commit blogicide. i could pack it in. i could stop writing. i could stop sharing. i could just become humble enough to stop assuming (or hoping) that there are people in the world who give a fuck about what i think about anything.

but, if i did. what would that prove.? there would likely be another blog. another door to open. and i still like the endurance animal monicher. it is more me than ever before. i am less inclined to share it in conventional ways, but....it really does tickle me to think that some of those mentioned above (and others) might read this.

so, in true post-modern style, i have decided that blogicide would be too direct, moral, meaningful and seemingly objective of an act. it would be deluded. much more than blogging is.

so i will blog on. as long as i have this endurance bug within me.