My Indifference to Non-Recognition

My Indifference to Non-Recognition.

So, speaking off the top of my hat, recently I complained to the powers-that-be (here, and I hope this screed, such as it could turn out to be, although I will try to see that it does not) who may just regard the following as a “meta-comment” and therefore expunge it from the record.

The most curious thing about the Internet in general is that everything in it is, in a very real although virtual sense, ever-lasting. The traces of people who are now deceased still remain on FaceBook, Twitter, and any other site on the Web you care to include. For instance, recall the now perhaps defunct MySpace. Unless the company who operated this site have shut down their IBM mainframe, all that information still exists in cyber-space. Just as it will here.

This should be of great relief to historians who now have an unlimited amount of raw data from which to draw out their various threads of synthetic understanding (in the Kantian sense) which will serve as the grounding foundation of their subsequently published works.

For this reason I am not at all disappointed or discouraged or deterred from any forthcoming mini-essays I may produce — anywhere in cyber-space, or in ordinary hands-on newspapers made from wood pulp.

Many people who like to throw in their two-cents worth have probably already realized this; amateurs like me who plod along day after day with their manuscripts either initially typed or first written in long-hand (my personal practice).

In A Moveable Feast, Hemingway succinctly described how he went about writing a story. He’d take pencil and notebook to a little out-of-the-way cafe which never saw very many customers early in the morning, work until he was certain it would be an easy matter for him to take up the narrative once again the following morning. Then, he would go back to his apartment where his wife was still sleeping and type it up. And he pointed out that the typescript he produced served as a 2nd draft. And upon the third I expect he was done.