Blogging by its nature is a self-indulgent enterprise, which represents both its primary virtue as well as its greatest weakness. By this I mean that the blogging ethos revolves around sharing one’s uncompromised perspective with whoever finds it worth her while to read it — take it or leave it (that’s the virtue).

Blogging by its nature is a self-indulgent enterprise, which represents both its primary virtue as well as its greatest weakness. By this I mean that the blogging ethos revolves around sharing one’s uncompromised perspective with whoever finds it worth her while to read it — take it or leave it (that’s the virtue). For the blogger, the medium provides the ultimate in freedom from convention, freedom to select a topic, and freedom to think and share whatever you damn well please. The weakness, of course, is that much of what one might choose to share may not necessarily have any interest at all to anyone else at all. Without the bond between author and reader, there’s no accountability of a healthy kind (the comment option is an imperfect mechanism in this regard, since so few take the time to comment).

 

For those that blog to a specific purpose (i.e., they encourage readers to believe that they have something worth saying on a topic, and that they will keep saying something on that topic on a regular basis), there may also be something disingenuous when they depart from that topic to talk instead about what their cat did today, as so many bloggers are wont to do (the cat being, of course, only an example).

 

All of which is by way of acknowledging that what I’ll be writing about off and on for the next two weeks may be of absolutely no interest to you, unless you like isolated parts of the country, and reflections on things like nature, solitude, and the kinds of thoughts that one might think to record when the closest hamlet is a hundred miles away.

 

Since I am that kind of person that likes isolated parts of the country, and because I like to record what I see and think when I’m fortunate enough to really get away, you will therefore have two choices for the next two weeks: if you like nature writing, or are just plain curious, stay tuned. Otherwise, best to turn to alternative sources until c. August 28, when I’ll be back at my usual desk, rather than watching the glow of the sunset fade behind the bare, broken mountains that are surrounding me in the high desert of northwestern Nevada as I close this entry.

 

Note: As I will only be able to access the Internet erratically, I will upload a batch of these when I can, but set them up so that only one a day publishes to the Web. That’s what’s happening now, as I sit on the only park bench on the shady side of Main Street in Arturus, California, just across the border.