Eccentric Flower talk:201107/Catch Basin
From Eccentric Flower
Comments on Eccentric Flower:201107/Catch Basin
I'm not interested in sycophants, but it certainly does seem like I don't put the line between abuse and constructive criticism at the same place everyone else does.
No, I didn't put off writing this entry because I was summoning the courage to call you out - and I shouldn't have called you by name, but it's too late to remove that now - but your remarks DID keep me upset for the rest of the day and a couple of days afterward. I mean, I feel like whatever calling-out I just did to you was modest compared to you mocking me in front of two of my other friends, including one I had never met before, and my wife. Maybe I'm just thin-skinned.
Anyway, you shouldn't go off; I'm sure most people who read the entry will agree with the comments you made that day! And after all, the larger point was that you're far from alone in this, nor are you anywhere near the most severe critic.
-- 20:05, 5 July 2011 (BST)
I don't even understand half the shiny things you post on Tumblr. Clearly, we're worlds apart in tastes and most interests. I always found your rants to be introspective and compelling, even when I completely disagreed with your point of view. I confess to skimming through Tumblr, looking for the few comments which appear from time to time. Looks like I'll have to troll the LJ archives and read stuff there. I didn't even know you'd written a novel.
I guess there's no point in stopping back here occasionally, on the off chance that I'll find a new entry. I miss the salon. But I think this post will finally convince those of us faithful readers who are left that Eccentric Flower is pretty much gone. Adieu.
-- 20:17, 5 July 2011 (BST)
Sorry, Bunny. I really am. I hate to disappoint. But the comments above are a case in point. I open up a glimpse of my head for the first time in over a month, and immediately piss off someone whose friendship is valuable to me ... even if I don't act like it.
It is better for everyone for me to go silent.
-- 20:22, 5 July 2011 (BST)
Well, apparently if you are using Chrome and you're not logged in here and you try to comment and are prohibited, you can't go back and capture the comment you spent 15 minutes crafting carefully. Blargh. Firefox always let me go back ...
Anyway. I think you should write what you want where you want, and ignore people who bitch about it or try to guilt you into writing what they want. I went through that when I shifted from personal tell-all writing to writing about movies, and some of the reader emails were downright hurtful. As though they were entitled to part of my life, even. I would not do that to another person.
I like the Tumblr blog -- sometimes I comment, sometimes I skip an entry. It's a nice grab bag. We all have to find the venues for our writing that are most comfortable for us, and it can take a while, and it's good to hear that between Tumblr and the iPad, you're achieving more of what you want.
My original comment got a lot rantier (I took the "sycophant" comment more personally than I should have) but I think I'll just stop here.
-- 20:51, 5 July 2011 (BST)
Oh, yeah, I forgot about the sycophant thing. I always thought sycophants were obsequious yes-people. That's certainly not the sort you found here. You've even commented from time to time about how it seemed everyone lived to argue with you. Naw, I just passed it off as unnecessarily mean and let it go.
-- 20:57, 5 July 2011 (BST)
You know, I did worry about that moment at our brunch for about five seconds, wondering if you were upset about it. You seemed to brush it off very quickly and I'm sorry to hear you're still thinking about it - I had a lovely time with all of you and am sad to hear that part of the morning was upsetting for you. Honestly, I probably just went right back to envying your earrings, which were cute.
In less personal responses, I think what Jette said pretty much goes for me. Then again I am forever teetering on the brink of starting to journal again, but the older I get and the more complicated my life gets and the less anonymous the internet gets, the less sure I am about what I am willing to share of myself with The Internet At Large. So I can't blame anyone else who wants to withdraw. But, selfishly, I like it when my friends write about their lives even when I'm unwilling to do the same, so I'll likely be around, reading whatever you're writing.
But I reserve the right to not read it the instant you post it, and if that's upsetting, there's not much I can do about it. I spent the afternoon curled up at the library reading graphic novels Jayran recommended, and it was delightful, and I can't be sorry if bits of the internet passed me by that I now have to catch up on!
-- 21:20, 5 July 2011 (BST)
I think one of my major disconnects with modern internet culture is that I don't find retweeting/linking to be a particularly personal expression. Good on you, those of you who do; I don't. Yes, it says something about you. It says about as much about you as what type and brand of shoes you choose to wear, and I don't choose my friends based on that.
So for me what you're saying is, "Take what you can get [of personal interactions with me]. By the way, 'what you can get' is nothing."
I mean, I occasionally pop over and look at the stream of partially shiny objects. But I also occasionally wander through a little shop in Bigdale that has good trinkets. I don't mistake that for having a relationship with the proprietor, and I sincerely hope that the proprietor does not mistake that for having a relationship with me.
-- 04:31, 6 July 2011 (BST)
In interest of balance I have to add that the way Columbina keeps the Twitter account is on some topics more personal than any of her diaries used to be. Twitter is much more than just overhearing a stranger making personal call on cell phone in public, as it is OK to jump in to say something. And a remark dropped to Columbina on Twitter has much higher possibility of becoming a conversation than sending mail - that is also a positive side.
So - while peskier than long format, Twitter can be more than nothing.
-- 08:18, 6 July 2011 (BST)
I think Mrissa gets at the kernel of the issue that I've been thinking about wrt this. And it's a question I have that's not aimed solely at you. I know other people who've chosen to withdraw from most kinds of online interaction as well.
When interesting people are geographically distributed and not using the phone or email, how does relationship development/maintenance work, then? One of them told me: "Well, just email me if you want to chat." But in practice it doesn't really seem to work that way.
And of course you should feel free to foster/maintain relationships or not in whatever ways you see fit and are comfortable with. But it can still feel like a legitimate loss to others.
-- 12:32, 6 July 2011 (BST)
Mrissa, Medley - I think you're both right; I think these are legitimate objections.
In the case of the former, yes, I agree I am not really offering a relationship, and I don't like that much, but I feel I'm in a state at present where that relationship is, um, kinda toxic.
As for the latter, the "how do you maintain/develop a relationship in the absence of phone/email?" question is one I've given a lot of thought to, especially since I find chat clients invasive except by special arrangement, and Twitter (which, as Thomas notes, is about the closest you'll get to personal interaction with me these days short of sitting in a room with me) is not suited to every occasion, nor is it to everyone's taste.
I'd like to say that the answer is "the perfect answer hasn't been invented yet," but secretly I suspect the real answer is increased isolation and inability to form or hold relationships. I've moved increasingly into the "internet is increasing the distance between us" camp in the last couple of years. The counterbalance, of course, would be to go out and see people more often in person. But 1) I have never been very good at face-to-face socializing and 2) it's increasingly hard to find an appropriate venue. I don't have a church, I don't go to gyms, I'm pretty unclubbable, et cetera et cetera. Still working on an answer to that - as, I think, are many of my friends.
-- 14:54, 6 July 2011 (BST)
I'm having a hard time understanding what it is you want from your online presence. You seem to be saying that you want eyeballs and that the shiny objects are the best method to achieve that end. I suspect that you are right, if all you want is lots of drive-by looks with little or no feedback (my own feedback seems to be devolving mostly to one-liners -- actual conversational responses from me are now a minority).
But would you really rather be Us magazine instead of The Economist? I had had the impression for years that the *quality* of the eyeballs was important to you, and that the written conversation that ensued gave you the community and interactions that you most enjoyed (next to in-person).
I don't know if I am wrong, was wrong or that I'm right, and you've just changed over time (which obviously you have the right to do).
I do understand your not wanting to write bile-filled essays. There's a difference between a good, fun rant, and one driven by rage. What I miss are the 500-1000-word essays giving your take on Topics of the Day. I'm selfishly sorry if you don't enjoy writing those anymore.
One last thing, this jumped out at me: "[W]hatever abuse I've given you, it isn't even a shadowy fraction of what I give myself." I could have written something similar a decade ago. I think I've said this before, but it bears saying again: Let up on yourself. You deserve it. If you can do it, as I did, you'll find you'll let up on everyone else, too, and you and the world will be a deservedly happier place.
-- 09:40, 8 July 2011 (BST)
Patrick:
Kicking you in the face?
I guess it took you this long to gather the courage to write about me to everyone you know. Thanks for that.
You know, I really tried, but you're hell-bent on finding sycophants who agree to interact with you on the ever-changing level you want them to, and I just can't keep up. And quite honestly, I can't imagine who would.
See you.
-- 19:23, 5 July 2011 (BST)