Publication of any sort is an intrinsically social act, "I" having no reason to speak aloud unless I posit "you" there listening; but your presence is especially vital if I am seeking not to disclose the economic benefits of fish farming in Zäire, or to recount the imaginary tribulations of an adulterous doctor's wife in nineteenth-century France, but to reconnect myself—now so utterly transformed by events unlike any I've experienced before as to seem a stranger even to myself—to the human community.... lendingYou, some of you anyhow, have classed this blog with other feminist blogs,
materiality to my readerly ideal, transform[ing] monologue into intercourse.
have read it over and over enough to find it a few times in the Top 50 Biblioblogs,
have given it visibly rising Technorati ranks,
have have left it in the Top 100 Best Blogs for the Literati,
and have given it more than just one of those terribly-coveted Lingy Awards.
You, some of you anyhow, have included it in your Carnivals (Bible? and Christian? and feminist?)
and have blogrolled it on your blogrolls (calling me one of your "Smarties"
and linking to my blogging as if I write in "Other Radtastic Corners of the Blogosphere,"
and noting, more safely and much more simply, that I've linked to your blog).
You, some of you anyhow, have said not so nice things about me and about this blog,
have ignored the blog as much as you can,
have dropped it from your blogroll like a hot potato (or a cold one) from your hand (or your mouth),
or have created high classes of purer blog-type categories so as not to include it.
You, some of you anyhow, have wondered whether I am a woman or a man,
whether I am a black woman, and
have written more differently about me or to me or with me once you learned I am a man and / or that I am not "of color," and
have found my high degree (the Ph.D.) to be something like the pedigree of pure papered dog that either gives me authoritative ethos in your eyes or puts me away and way up and way out of touch from you.
You, some of you anyhow, have talked about how difficult this blog is, how difficult my writing is, as if quotes in Greek that either put females down or that include all people especially when written by women are ever easy.
All of this attention, when blogging can be so self indulgent anyhow. How else and where can one express herself so openly? How must one say and write in her or his own voice? How can one speak up, speak out, speak on so many things, how can he (or she) do that when so shy and embarrassed and blushing in public at the attention? I did not intend to draw so much attention. I grew up in a land where, because of my body, I was too noticed, and I think you can see that I'm still growing up.)
I'm not going to say that you, some of you anyhow, have made me want to stop blogging again and again. You cannot "make" me do anything or feel any particular way; just as I can't you. I must say, again, and again and again how profoundly grateful I've been for all of the dialogue here at this blog! Your voice is much appreciated! Your silences, too, are felt as well! Your point of view is crucial and critical! You must make of this blog what you will.
(You, some of you anyway, may want to have more conversation that includes me -- in my blogging. Please find me at any of the regular social media outlets or more regularly albeit not as often or as public here).