Out in the Open

So, I've been caught. Red-handed. After several months of trying to keep it under wraps, I've been called on it. I have, despite my best intentions, fallen head over heels in love with a fellow blogger. She's ignored my hints, my emails, my less-than-subtle yearnings hidden in "fiction" pieces. I've even strongly considered, to save myself from abject embarrassment, deleting many of the posts I've written about her.

The kicker came when she posted a poem about fake, virtual love. You can read it here: "Not Your Average Love Poem"

Yeah, I tried to play it off with a joke, but it hurt. Maybe you're thinking I'm a little crazy right now, but I don't care. I'm not about "fake, virtual love." That was uncalled for.

And I know you really love my writing - you're not fooling anybody - so here's your not-so-average love poem...

And the Muses...
To convince, of love, words as art
What better way to show you
Syllables from my heart

I could quote lyrics, and I would
But better they'd be mine own
As they should

To read of your other men
I feel sick, disgusted
My heart abandoned

No, I shall not devolve immature
But hold my head high
As I imagine our future

Please don't unfollow
Leave me on your blog roll
For its absence, as my heart...

Would leave me hollow...

You are, forever, my Muse...

***

Yeah, I'm pathetic. Sue me.

Know When You're Caught

There's a little-known saying among those who, well, engage in less than honorable activities: "Know when you're caught." You might not hear those exact words, but you'll find the sentiment damn near everywhere. Hollywood loves to play on the "calm criminal who takes a nap in jail" theme, and that's pretty much what the saying means. You've been caught. Guilty. Irrefutable evidence. So, learn to take a lesson from professional liars, thieves, wretch hives of scum and villainy, and know when you're caught.

Ironic, I know. All you ever needed to know you learned in Kindergarten... and from criminals.

For whatever reason (and certainly not by any uncommon means of prescience), I've long subscribed to this philosophy. I, like pretty much everyone else, am not a perfect creature. As such, I'm not a perfectly honest creature and sometimes do stupid shit. Certainly not as often as I used to, but it still happens. Despite what you've just read, I have earned (and maintain) an honest reputation. And in another case of irony, I didn't earn it by being completely honest (although I am for the most part... of course, you'll no longer believe that claim), but by fessing up when I've been caught at something.

Irony is definitely theme here.

Seriously, though. If I were caught, be it in a lie or whatever, and I knew or strongly suspected that I was caught, I'd fess up. There would be no argument, no attempt to backtrack or cover up... nothing. I'd just come clean. Let's face it, despite the imperfect nature of human deduction and induction, accusations usually start flying once reasonable doubt has been surpassed (outside of the topics of love and war, of course). I learned this lesson many, many years ago. And I learned to know when I'm caught.

Why am I ranting about this? Well, I'll tell you. A short while ago, someone was caught doing something wrong (not by me, but I quickly jumped in on the investigation). It was determined very quickly that this person knowingly did something wrong. Irrefutable evidence. And, so, we called him out on it.

He "defended" himself with a lie.

So, we called him out on that. Even pointed out how we knew he was lying.

So he "defended" himself with another lie. Then he even tried to alter the evidence (never mind that we had already taken our own sample of it, safely tucked away for our own reference).

By that point we were done with the matter, having already doled out the punishment (as benign as it was), but still used the incident as fodder for jokes.

But this guy... well, he just doesn't know when he's caught. So he went outside of even our sphere of influence to try to convince uninterested parties that he wasn't lying.

Which made for more jokes. But, as I said, by that point we were done with the matter.

And then he "defended" himself again. And repeated a previous lie.

We're still done with the matter and forever will be, but I just felt the need to share this little moral. Know when you're caught.

Commentaries

I write. I am not a writer, but I write. And while I enjoy the virtual vanity of accumulating comments on this blog, I essentially follow Caffeinated Joe's philosophy and write for myself. I think it's great that other people read my crap, and I wouldn't change that for the world.

That stated, I (and many of my blogging companions) have noticed that many, many, many commenters seem, well, disingenuous.  Over the past few months we've identified many laughable habits and have even come up with terms describing these particular blog "readers." And I figured I'd share them with you.

• Alpha-Omegas - these are the people who, usually when dealing with admittedly lengthy blog entries, only read the first and last paragraphs of that entry, and leave comments in the hopes that you won't notice. These "readers" fancy themselves as extremely clever, though often their comments provide glaring evidence leading to the conclusion that they have no idea what your piece is about.
• Charlie Tunas - simply put, these are people who leave "canned comments." Often painfully obvious (as many tend to be members of writing groups or memes), one can safely surmise that they actually cut and paste certain comments, changing a word here or there in order to tailor it to your entry.
• Fanboys - not necessarily non-readers, but their commenting practices reveal a certain... lack of discerning ability? Have you ever come across a blog that is clearly full of talentless or otherwise bad "writing," but somehow has hundreds of followers? And those followers ALWAYS "love" the work and never have anything constructive or specific to say.  Yeah... those people.
• Follower Fishers - people who only comment in the hopes of attracting followers to their own blogs. They come in many forms, utilizing the non-reading technique of others in vain (as in vanity) attempts to get us to read their crap.
• Moles - not bad in and of themselves, but they do tend to be a tad condescending by linking their own blog or blog entry in a comment they leave for you. Sure, it can be a thoughtful thing to do when the link leads to something the commenter feels might be related to what you wrote, but more often a mole is simply follower-fishing. If not, they're doing a pretty good job of implying that you're too stupid to follow their profile back to their blog. Which, you know, is what most of us do when we're curious enough to see who left a comment.
• Missionaries - these make me want to puke most of the time. You know who they are. Someone who came across your blog, read something they didn't like or disagreed with, and offered to show you their own work in order to "correct your opinion" or "belief set" so you can be saved. I don't know about you, but I write fiction a lot, and I don't need to be saved. My characters might, but I don't. And even if I did, I don't want to be. And even if I wanted to be, I doubt I'd let a blogger or a viral marketer try to do it.
• Skimmers - though these "readers" don't feel they are as clever as Alpha-Omegas, they are actually far better at not reading your blog than most other pretend-readers. They'll scroll through, looking for keywords that repeat or otherwise stand out, then leave a cautiously formulated comment reflecting the fact that they noticed those words or phrases. Harder to catch, these ones, but their comments also hint at not knowing what your piece is actually about.

There are more, but I'll let you come up with funny monikers for those people.

At any rate, I'm just asking for commenters to provide the courtesy of actually having read what they have commented on. Is that fair? Or am I just being anal?

While I may leave a short, confusing, or otherwise sarcastically brief and/or bereft comment, I can assure you that if a comment was left by me, it means that I read your post... from the first word to the last word. Anything less would be hypocritical.

Can't we all just get along?

Oh, wait... never mind. Getting along would make my life boring.

Weight

apathy's laughing
at your selfish collection
crushed by an earthquake
gadgets, gizmos, and toys
staring in disbelief
hoping the insurance covers
while your neighbor bleeds

sympathy's laughing
at your selfish reflection
the visage of a mistake
pollution, air and noise
Atlas' shoulders in relief
the weight of the sky smothers
while your hypocrisy breathes