Stating the obvious: a manifesto of sorts?

As I run into more folks addressing me in the real world as “Tankboy” that have only met me via e-mail or my ramblings I’ve grown a bit concerned. On one hand this is a bit flattering since it means folks are reading and responding to what I write. On the other hand there is a definite danger of someone thinking they “know me” or folks surrounding me just by reading my sometimes disjointed ramblings.

So this got me to thinking just what kind of image I can convey. And this got me to thinking about other writers out there – primarily bloggers – and what they are trying to display as themselves. I mean face it, the only stuff I put up here is stuff I want you to know, right? I like to think I am objective for the most part but obviously I’m going to leave things out that I don’t think belong or that might implicate people around me in less savory situations.

I think a great example of the “reveal only as you choose” is The Watergirl’s page. She is by far one of the most entertaining storytellers out there but as I’ve gotten to know her through her work I begin to notice that sometimes what she doesn’t say is just as important as what she’s filling you in on. Fascinating. And you know what? Not only is it a good read but it’s the sign of a good writer.

For my own part, since for me this was never really an anonymous exercise to being with, I think it’s safe to say that I am pretty straightforward with the stuff I put in here, but I would hope no one would ever make the mistake of viewing this as a truly confessional on-line diary. Think of it as a series of “think” pieces that are sometimes informative, sometimes funny, sometimes boring and sometimes make me look like an ass. Sometimes things I write come back to bite me on the ass, primarily in matters including my girlfriend, because folks take what I write as face value and forget that sometimes writers accentuate certain parts of a story because they are looking to elicit a certain reaction.

For instance maybe I’ll tell an amusing story about how witty I was being at a certain bar but will conveniently not include the fact that I spent the time prior and immediately after said wittiness puking in the bathroom. See, it kind of changes your view of that little story, no? And now you’re probably making the mistake of thinking I actually was puking my guts out in some bar bathroom recently. I wasn’t. I’m just trying to make a point and doing a poor job of it.

What I’m really trying to just hammer out here is the fact that even though I reveal a confessional bend at times you’re not getting the whole story. Hell, I’m sure if you asked anyone around me Tuesday night what happened while I was DJing you’d get a fractured mirror of answers that all looked pretty similar but definitely weren’t the same. It’s all about perception and in this venue I have control of your perception, right? Sorry to get all meta on you here but I think that’s an important thing to remember in all circumstances of life and I’m just trying to do my itsy-bitsy part in promoting close reading of everything we encounter in our day to day lives.

Okay, hmmm, I think I’m out of steam so what can I tell you to make you laugh? Oh yeah,, here’s something.

Tuesday, when I got back from the bar and had too many shots for my own good I was rummaging through the fridge and trying to quietly unwrap a Little Debbie’s Swiss Cake Roll as a late-night snack. I thought I was being all mouse-like until I was BUSTED by Photogal who was giving me the stink eye for obviously drinking too much while DJing. Did I ever get to eat that Swiss Cake Roll you ask? Well, I must have shoved it in my pocket in an attempt to, for some reason, hide it and then forgot about it until the morning. Needless to say it was a little smushed by the next morning but it was ten times more delicious since I had to wait for it!