That’s my motto:
“What I write about is other than me. As what I write is smarter than I am. Because I can rewrite it. My books know what I once knew, fitfully, intermittently.” —Susan Sontag
“When someone between twenty and forty says, apropos of a work of art, ‘I know what I like,’ he is really saying ‘I have no taste of my own but accept the taste of my cultural milieu,’ because, between twenty and forty, the surest sign that a man has a genuine taste of his own is that he is uncertain of it.” —WH Auden
“(those who fail to re-read are obliged to read the same story everywhere)” —Roland Barthes
The already said:
“This website is an attempt to push myself into writing”
“Once upon a time I said that my ‘Pah’ isn’t dismissive—it’s more like a fifth Teletubbie—but surely all aesthetics—and ethics—start with a dismissive ‘Pah’? Nevermind; there is no normal service to be resumed; I just keeping falling off that wagon and climbing back on that horse.”
“Along with the impulse to put yourself out here, there is always the impulse to walk away. When asked about common blogger traits I forgot this one: the blank single page replacing a cornucopia, the words that never again move, the copyright notice for 1999. Sometimes the urge is strong, to go the West, the sea, beyond the Rim.”
This weblog is ten years old today. This is the last post.
This blog, this strange wordbeast, pah2. Started when this blogging malarkey was still new. Featured in the first major article on weblogs in an Australian newspaper. Here before September 11. Amongst the old ones now.
Politics, art, life. My head. From X-Men to The Third Age, from the Sydney Olympics to Kevin ’07, from longing for Carlton to two kids and a mortgage. So much said and unsaid. Resaid and reread. A record, an archive, more important to me as a reader than a writer. The silences speak to me too.
Questions. Why stop here? Why not leave the door open? I have answers.
1. Society. This blog has never been part of any blogosphere. It has always been eclectic and esoteric, wayward and whimsical. It has never become entangled in a web of relationships that might have made it so much more. It has never followed Bernstein’s Tip #5. If I have a personal blog in the future, it will endeavour to be part of a discourse.
2. Audience. This blog has never been anonymous, but in the early days it was intimate. With its journalistic outing, it became less so. And blogs have been becoming more popular and thus more public every day since they were named. I have public commitments that conflict with the stubbornness of my soul. There are things I find I can’t talk about here. Call this the Anti-Zuckerberg Principle. If I have a personal blog in the future, it will be pseudonymous and fictionalised.
3. Voice. This blog has never developed what it has to say. It is too glib, too inward, too tortured. It uses too few words. It has been said I have a poet’s way with words, but I am not Eliot, and my posts cannot bear the weight of meaning I place upon them. If I have a personal blog in the future, it will attempt to be more substantial.
4. Pah. This blog has never escaped its name. Once I thought it was cute and harmless, but now I see it is a Freudian slip. It is a symbol of cynicism, disinterest, negativity. I love so much, yet it is what I hate that others expect to hear from me. If I have a personal blog in the future, it will have to start with love.
Here is a final thought, for the blog rather than about it.
Have you ever noticed that drink tastes different when drunk from a bottle than when drunk from a cup?
[Hmm, no, let this not be my last topic. How about the following, instead?]
This morning on the tram I saw an ad for a play that sounded interesting. Then I saw the writer and director of the play, and I decided that I didn’t want to see it.
The playwright’s name was Christopher, the director’s name was Matt. I don’t know them. They are men. I am so tired of men. I bet they are white men. I am so, so tired! I do not need to hear the voices of more men.
I have a dream. I want to be successful one day in the field of art. Would I want my own prejudice turned against me when I compete for attention? I would. I do. I want to be discriminated against. I don’t deserve to be heard more than a woman.
I’m sick of animals being “he”, sick of Australians being white, sick of toilets being male or female. I want to be decentered. I want an end to being a man, being heterosexual, being white, being so much more. I want to be something that matters.
(What was I thinking before I saw the ad? Something else, something else. See how the mere presence of ads structures your thought?)
Tonight I’m going out to MasterChef judge George Calombaris’s restaurant Hellenic Republic.
Now unsubscribe while I plan my final archiving strategies.
Thank you for taking part in pah2.weblogs.com, pah2.buzzword.com, pah2.golding.id.au.
This is not goodbye, but au revoir. I have been blogging for eleven years. I will continue blogging elsewhere (on Wednesday I’ll be starting a blog for a uni subject).
Ne pas éditer cette page.