-- OK, something was bugging me by when I posted my last entry, and this
time it wasn't Duc (that wasn't for another hour). I was blabbing
on about viewer e-mail, and how it reminded me of Akiyo, and then I sort
of went off in some other direction.
I had a point, and then I remembered it when I was taking the Dash Bus to and fro the LA County Law Library. I scribbled most of it down on the back of an e-mail I had printed out and took with me. So when it comes to essays, it's not exactly Foucault. But it's a point I wanted to make.
The point I wanted to make was the by not establishing a physical interaction with someone, there doesn't seem to me to be the same kind of social concerns that there might otherwise be. If you don't know the same people, then the risk of it getting back to them and affecting your relationship with them is nil. Also, since there's no physical interaction, I don't feel that there is as great a loss if you do lose contact. (Shit, I'm starting to sound like some geek boy who's not gonna leave the house and just hang out in chat rooms all day discussing the life I wish I had).
I'm probably not gonna confess to someone that I know personally that I was molested by Ronald McDonald when I was six. I might blab that out here, though, or to someone I e-mail but have never met. Or to Akiyo; well, I might have before we ever met. I guess it's not observing their physical reaction if they hear it, and worrying about if they might tell someone else I know. There potentially aren't any consequences -- who cares if firstname.lastname@example.org knows that Ronald made me suck his red dick in the john? It's never going to get back to anyone else and I don't have to deal with the immediate pressure of their reaction. Plus, I can maintain a fantasy or myth about the person I've never met, and I don't experience their bad side, or see their bad habits. So in that sense, they are imaginary friends.
BTW, I was never molested by Ronald McDonald. Or anyone else for that matter. I just used Ronald as an example -- who knows what lurks underneath that poofy red wig?
Anyhow, this doesn't make much sense, but I felt compelled to scribble it down. After doing so I realize something -- damn, it is pretty compelling to become a geek who doesn't leave the house and spends all his time in chat rooms discussing sci-fi and the life I was I had.