3 תגובות “באמת?”

1. Just to avoid any misunderstandings, the above was aimed at the textual parts of the blog.

   The Poser bits rock. In a desperate sort of way.

   I.

2. Is a good question, Bo.

   Why we bother to read this blog, while you don't even bother to make it readable? I mean, I can't even see what I am writing now, it's hidden behind the side-bar… Oh, there I am. Fun.

   I guess most of it is hope. We know you share some of our interests, and we hope to make some great discoveries. Something good to dnld, yet another way to make undefrosted calamari, or just an interesting thought about this world – something that will not take much of our time, but that will nonetheless enrich our lives in a clear and measurable way.

   In this, of course, we are wrong. It's not your fault, it just doesn't work that way. We know it doesn't work that way, which somehow doesn't stop us from trying to fool ourselves, and even succeeding every once in a while.

   Another reason is our need to communicate with you. Not out of some estimated value we attach to such communication, just out of love. Reaching out and touching somebody – like in the ad.

   This too is a lie. By opting for this form of communication we are insuring ourselves against any form of unwanted involvement (from both sides: we can't happen to intrude on a private moment, nor are we placing ourselves in risk of being called upon to do something, or to think of an excuse not to do it) – but we also give-up on most wanted forms of involvement. The most we can do is write a response, which only fools do seriously (a response in a blog is like being a parasite on a louse; it's a life, but not the kind worth mentioning).

   So? Is there anything left? Anything pure, untainted, or at least worthwhile? Is there any true reason for me to come back? Or am I just running away anyway?

   See you tomorrow,
   I.

3. אחי אני אוהב לקרוא דברים שאתה מפרסם, אולי אתה לא מפרסם הרבה אבל כשאתה מפרסם זה כיף לקרוא שטויות שאתה כותב, סתם תכתוב על דברים שעוברים עליך בחיים. כמו שאני עושה.