To blog or not to blog

I've been meaning to start one of these for a long time.  That's a lie.  I have started a blog before.  Perhaps more than once.  But it has always gone the same way: I post once, reread what I wrote with disgust, and subsequently delete the page, or repress my memory of the URL.  Maybe it's end-of-the-year nostalgia, or maybe it's just about that time, but I think I'm in it for real now.  Thus far, I lack a defined agenda or thematic, but I think I need a non-academic, non-verbal mode of expressing myself  ("just tryin to be me, yall").  We'll have to see what shape this takes, that is, if it even survives my own self-effacing proclivity.

I find it almost impossible to blog without incessant reflection upon the absurdity of this new medium.  Am I writing for myself or for my readers?  Will I have readers?  If so, will they be my friends wasting hangin' ten (fingers) on the interweb, or fellow bloggers blog-hopping in search of inspiration?  Mom?  All writing is written with a certain audience in mind (err, probably (cf The Postcard)), but my audience is not only undefined, it is open to be read by the entire literate world.  Fuck.  I guess it's hardly worth trying to tailor what I write to anyone's taste, and it would probably be counter-productive to do so anyway.

The possibilities are, I guess, limitless, but the probable outcome is that five or ten of you who I could (but won't) name will glance at this now and then to see if I have any kyute pics or "cool ideas" to offer the world wide interweb.  

My direct inspiration for starting this page now was that I felt a need to post a sort of rebuttal to Max's list of the top albums of the year, but the idea has been on the backburner for months.  I'm also headed to Paristown for the first half of 2K9, so I 'd like to chronicle my thoughts in some tangible form that won't be lost forever the next time my computer peters out on me.

If you intend to read this because you think you "get" my humor or taste, well, just generally fuck you.  I don't want to hear about it at all.  You don't.  The shortcoming of irony as a rhetorical device is that, for many, the inversion of meaning is lost, and for the others who "get" it, well, they get it.  But of course, when irony is built upon itself, the inversions become impossible to follow and the point of it all is lost in an infinitely regressive string of self-reflexive jokes about joking, etc.  In the end, the problem is that everyone is satisfied (cf HRO).  I can only hope that there is a way of alienating the asshats that I do not want to impress and the others who think I am blogging for them.  This is a blog for everyone and no one.