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Was chilling out for a few days but - at the risk of all this getting a bit intra-blog indulgent & incestuous & precious & up-itself insular - I can't let this pass without some comment.

Although, to be honest - I'm speechless, a bit stumped.

Matthew seems to think I've got some kind of "it" in for him ... well, I don't know how to put this, and maybe this will sound even ruder than the IMAGINED personally directed insult, BUT:-

Matthew, I don't know you; I've never met you and I know next to nothing about you; I look at your blog and enjoy it and it's fun but as even you'd admit I think it is a wee bit less personal than some {not necessarily a value judgement that: just an empirical observation} so therefore I don't even know that much about you from this one source. Consequently - and I hardly think this is earth shattering news, to anyone - I don't really give much thought to you as such AT ALL. I have a life like everyone else which is chocka with joys & sadnesses & wishes & wants & difficulties & past problems which are still present and future potentialities which are still just whispers and a 1,000 things to do and love and hate and think about RIGHT NOW, and, you know, you're just not one of them.
I don't get it: why would you be?

That ogre of a thing on Sunday was a RANT - it was devised & sculpted and - as Luka for one has already perceptibly figured & pointed out - a performance of one part of myself, ONE of the many selves we all are and sometimes hide and sometimes let out the bag.

The snide dig at "middle class record collectors" and "media whores" - you seem to have taken particular objection to the latter term, altho quite why beats the hell out of me, as I was thinking {if I was "thinking" at all} about, you know, Telegraph magazine wannabees, sub Victoria Aitken I LUV HOUSE MUSIC ME types etc etc. ... oh, jeez, man,
this is a) hardly even worth going into in such detail and b) bloody well ruins the whole point of the BLAST type exercise in the first place which was untrammeled FLOW and RAGE and trying to meld obscenity with poetry with self revelation with ... aw, I wrote the piece. Read it. Hate it. Love it. I gave GIVEN it. Take it, by all means, that's what it there for - but not personally.

I thought the piece, personally, was all about LOVE.

For someone I've never met and hold no grudge against to take such nakedly personal offence truly and utterly baffles me. It would be callously easy for me to add: "- and suggests I hit some sort of nerve" but - shit, like I say, I DONT KNOW YOU, I HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE, and when I was writing the piece YOU COULDNT HAVE BEEN FURTHER FROM MY MIND.

If you want to know the subterranean truth, it was written to exorcise certain intense feelings of loss and anger and helplessness over something lost; and I'm saying no more than that - cos it's none of your fucking bizwhacks for one thing. And I presented it in the way I did PRECISELY not to have to go into such detail.

Also, I mean - loosen up, guy.
There were hints in that piece - really quite broad I thought - that it was ALSO a play with different tones and what results and responses being a bit more personal on the blog front might bring.

Well now I know: some people {e.g Luka} got it instantly as something like a performance {but NOT art} about GIVING and GOING ON and being confused by love and caring and how much pain it can bring.

Other people - i.e. you - are apparently SO self-obsessed that they can read 1000s of words about love & pain & OK a passing swipe of piss-take too, as well - and get none of it, none of it WHATSOEVER except one tiny tiny infintessimally tiny passing reference I'd forgotten I'd even written until this blew up. Or, rather, until your ego blew up over it.

You know - this ain't the world. It's not that big a deal.

Except it is, to me; because like I say ... I thought I was writing about the hope of universal LOVE - "no race lines no class lines no sex lines" - whereas you, you ... you thought I ... you thought I was writing about YOU.


posted by Ian 8/19/2003 09:23:00 PM

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