If you went through my home page to get here, you know that it was named the Web Weavers Page of July. And if you didn't, now you know. I was extremely pleased when Sage told me she liked my page that much. I've found a couple of cool pages through Sage's efforts, so I am flattered to be in their company.
I've been looking through other journals on the web (see the list on my journals page) and I'm amazed at the breadth of types of journals out there. You always think that yours is the only way to go, until such time as you see otherwise. I just pick a topic and run with it for a while, always personal but not too personal, you know? I'm not going to write about fights with Darin or times when I get extremely depressed or, like Tracy, my sex life. Sorry, folks. I'm just not gonna.
On the journals mailing list I run (once again, for more information about how to join, see my journals page) we've had a little discussion about getting criticism for what we post publicly. A couple of people on the list have online journals and they get mail from strangers criticizing them (and not-very-constructive criticism at that)--at the very least trying to shame them into feeling bad about what they've written, at best (an unfortunate term, alas) trying to get them to change what they've written.
I don't know what reasons anyone else has for starting their online journal. I only have my own--a public newsletter to keep my friends up to date on what I'm doing down in SoCal and a way to get me writing every day. Some people may be compelled by a desire to share what's going on with them because it may help other people; some may enjoy writing so much they bubble over at the opportunity to publish their own personal, private thoughts on the Net; some may simply be exhibitionists. Who knows?
What I don't understand is a complete stranger sending vitriol, anger, bad feelings. Thankfully I haven't gotten any of that yet. So far the strangest response I've gotten since creating a home page in February is, "A picture would be nice." (I will. Any day now. Really. I promise.) I know that getting any kind of response from a complete stranger is flattering, because it means someone has read your web page and cares enough to respond. Think about all the web pages you've passed by that have simply been too juvenile or ridiculous to bother sending mail. That someone did send mail is saying they cared enough to send a response, even if they didn't care enough to send the very best (in terms of remarks).
How are you supposed to deal with a stranger's bad feelings towards you? One person mentioned getting mail that asked, "What's the point of your web page?" Is there any amount of explanation that will help the inquirer get it? Here are the sorts of things that came to my mind as possible responses:
However, if the sender didn't get the web page in the first place, a sarcastic reply isn't going to help much. Probably. Other than to get the person to send out messages to friend and foe alike saying that not only is your web page weird, but you're rude--or worse, cryptic--as well.
Another thing I worry about in writing The Paperwork is the boundary between how I see events and how others that I write about--all of whom are likely to have web access--see those same events. Case in point: when my friend Greg wrote up the story of what happened to him when he was attacked and stabbed, some of the people mentioned in the story were not at all pleased about their mention in the story. Greg's opinion was that that was what happened according to what he experienced and he wasn't going to change it. He offered to post their comments refuting his interpretation, but that was all.
This question of the consequences of posting something that perhaps two people see very, very differently has led me to investigate such things as libel laws. After all, this is a publication medium. But shouldn't my interpretation of events be at least as important as any other participant's, provided I'm being honest and not carrying a concealed agenda? Everyone else has just as much opportunity to refute anything I say--one of the beautiful things about the Web. (And one of the reasons parts of the government and big business want to control it, in my opinion.)
I have no idea where I'm going with this topic either, in case you're wondering. Why am I writing an online journals? Why is anyone writing one? Why does anyone do anything, whether it's on the web or any other activity? What's the damn point of getting up in the morning when there are five or six billion people on the planet and it's probably all going to end in armed conflict anyhow?
One of the reasons people write is to leave behind some trace of themselves, some proof that they really existed. I don't think online diarists are any different; they're simply writing for immediate publication, rather than being discovered in a moldy trunk a hundred years from now. And everybody's writing the truth or some version of it.
I can't remember who said this, but there's a quote that goes something to the effect that, "If women told the truth, society would fall apart." I happen to think that if everyone tells the truth, society would either fall to pieces...or suddenly wake up and realize that it's time to stop kidding ourselves.
That's what I think we're doing here or what we're doing any time we write in a journal book or create an original song or paint a painting or create any piece of art. We're trying to tell a little truth. And if that upsets some people, fuck 'em. Let them speak out on their own.
Boy, I had no idea where I was headed on this one. Cool. Purpose served.
Last Updated: 2-Jul-96
©1996 Diane Patterson