I woke up this morning and realized that I have a problem. My Ego is a big as a house, and I’m not channeling it in an appropriate direction.
I’ve attempted to curb that Egotism by not presenting any visual Image of Myself. I’ve been tempted to do the standard thing- posting a flattering photo of Myself looking Cool (which would require some sorting- I don’t love the camera, and the camera is not crazy about me), maybe posing with some Cool Accessory (which always helps; the camera loves that shit.) But I don’t care for being accosted by strangers, pulling stunts like sidling up to me and saying something that sounds like half of a joke, for which I’m supposed to have the other half in reply. I really do want the focus to be on my written words, not my Visual Image.
The problem is that words present an Image, too, in some sense. And I haven’t been putting most of mine in the proper place. Instead, I infest the reader comments for the stories written by other people. I’ve told myself that this doesn’t matter, but on reflection, I’ve realized that it does. I’m a volume writer. Part of that is about an emphasis on clarity. That emphasis makes it easy for me to generate verbiage in mass quantities- qualifying, extrapolating, digressing, ratifying, offering pointed disagreement and then underscoring it. I find it enjoyable. It comes naturally to me. I haven’t given enough reflection to how overbearing that tendency might come off, in a place that it doesn’t belong. It’s one thing to post comments that rival the length of the story that prompted them, and another to post comments that amount to 10x the number of words in the original story. Which is something I’ve done. Recurrently.
I was just a participant in a discussion on an article by Freddie DeBoer, where I’m a paid subscriber. (I had never heard of Freddie before becoming acquainted with Substack. He’s a talented essayist, with views that are candid and honest on a wide range of topics, notwithstanding my frequent disagreement with his opinions. I subscribed quickly.) Anyway, the topic of the essay was about Drag Queen Story Hour, of all things. The latest media flashpoint related to gender and sexuality issues, with which I maintain some ongoing interest. It isn’t exactly my wheelhouse, but once I start posting my observations in a reader comment section, that isn’t required. It hardly matters what the topic is; point me to an open reader comment section and I’ll have something to say about it. A lot to say, compared to the majority of posters who are content to leave it at a sentence or two. About practically every subject. (The recently departed David Crosby once proclaimed that he was The World’s Most Opinionated Man. Now that he’s left the building, my own ranking has improved. Look out, world.)
Anyway, after having already posted at considerable length in that Drag Queen Story Hour reader discussion, I finally arrived at my takeaway opinion on the subject: that there’s such a thing as leaning too hard, in an inappropriate space. And today I realized: that’s what I’ve often been doing, as a comment poster in stories written by other people. For years, I’ve known that I’m prolific, and my reader comments are typically verbose. I’ve joked about being a cowbird in someone else’s nest, kicking their eggs out to lay and hatch my own. But it’s no joke. I really am that bad sometimes. I need to dial this situation back. If I can’t, it’s evidence of a Syndrome.
There are other troubling indications to support that possibility. I get into comment section disputes like I have a chip on my shoulder. And I suppose I do. Most often, my prickliness isn’t really about the topic at hand; it’s about Aliteracy and Intellectual Indiscipline. Those are real problems. But I need to find better ways to confront and expose those adversaries than to get in contentious debates in reader comments. Ishmael Reed once observed that “Writin’ is Fightin’.” It’s all too clear to me how much I enjoy a good scrap, pummeling my opponents in a debate. But after a while, sparring practice is like over-exercising. The wins, TKOs, and knockouts aren’t very satisfying when the stakes are so low, especially in the bouts when the opponent is a palooka. I get on the steamroller anyway. It makes no sense. And it’s typically about as satisfying as a dog gnawing on a dry bone, just doing it to do it.
Meanwhile, as far as the overall effect on the spectators, I’m getting the idea that my presence in comments sections is like kudzu. I have my own Substack page, and I’m not using it nearly enough. Buying an argument in a reader comment section is easy; hell, they’re giving them away. Organizing my own thoughts and producing a tight essay is a heavier lift. In particular, I need to practice opening paragraphs. I also have an extensive record of comments archived from other platforms over the years- something like 12,000 of them. More than that, actually. My biggest task is going to be filing and editing work. I hate filing work with a passion. But on a great many of my favored topic hobbyhorses, I’ve already said most of what I have to say, in many cases way past the point of redundancy. It makes more sense to compile and refine that material than it does to start from scratch. So I need to take that deep dive, like it or not. I’ve been leaning too hard in places where my Internet Presence is not appropriate for my self-expression. I’ve been known to joke that it’s a Work Avoidance tactic. That’s all too true. And the joke is no longer funny to me.
I don’t intend to make that an excuse for any more extended absences from putting up new posts on this page, though. I have enough other stuff to say on newer topics. In particular, I’ll have some book reviews up soon.
And I’m giving the comment sections a rest. (Except for, perhaps, the Better Parts of Manhattan Times. Fuck those people.)