What is the Sound of One Hand Blogging?

If a person writes a blog, and there is no one there to read it? Does it exist? Perhaps not.

Perhaps blogging is the ultimate in Information Age solipsism. I keep an online journal to be read by others under the assumption that I am important, but as my thoughts are not important, even to people who know me, the posts go unread. They exist, floating around on the Internet, in the Ether, in a non-tangible state, unseen by all but me.

Which gives me the ulimate freedom. Like a maniac standing in the middle of Wembley Stadium at night, jumping up and down, naked, screaming that the Kaiser is coming to eat my donuts, I have a public forum all to myself to say whatever I want, and the best part is that no one can hear me.

I can say that the center of the Earth is a molten core of nacho cheese and marinara sauce, and that volcanic eruptiosn therefore feed whole villages. I can claim to be able to walk through walls dur to anomalies in space-time on the quantum level that exist only in my bathroom, opening endless portals to me into parallel universes.

If conscience is that which keeps you from behaving badly when no one is looking, then shouldn't mine needs a tune up, beacuse I believe absloutely in my freedom to behave with absurdity when no one is looking.

No one is looking. I'm naked in the middle of the empty sports arena and it's mine, all mine.

Now the real fun begins.