200 Flying Martins

You hate it.

That's okay, I'm not sure of it myself. On the plus side, a search on Google reveals that I am utterly, completely unique. Take that, "Fight Club"! You are looking at (according to Google, which is like the universe) a very special snowflake.

Haven't you ever wanted to utter a phrase that has never been uttered before in the history of the world? Do you think those phrases even exist? When I was younger I would try and come up with them for fun. I would say something and be like, "You know what, I bet that combination of words was never said before." It was exciting to think that I'd perhaps stumbled onto something genuinely new. Then again, back then it felt as though everything I experienced was unique to me. I won't pretend it doesn't still, because it does. I am the center of the Martin-verse. Why else would I write about it?

Potentially new phrases can't be manufactured. They have to grow from changing realities. Don't be alarmed if a whole in space fabric opens up as you read them (and feel free to add your own):

"The meat-packing district is all out of porcupine!"
"I bent the shrew but it didn't make her any rounder."
"Gumdrop purple with a hint of Triceratops."

The trick is getting them to make sense, which is why these examples, as well as almost all user-generated examples, will suck. They really can't be manufactured, as the examples above show. They have to be organic - moments or situations that exist but create the strangest combination of words. For example, at work we use a software bundle called "evolution." I've heard these kinds of phrases:

"Evolution is going to be down for a few minutes, so you might want to finish up and save what you're doing before heading out."

"Have you learned how to use evolution yet?"

"Does evolution have a user's guide?"

Now, are these the first times these phrases have been uttered? Probably not. But it's that kind of situation that creates a new phrase - words that shouldn't be together, but our new reality has pushed them together - and maybe, just maybe, you are privy to the generation of something new.

Like "Beware of Falling Me." I don't know, it kind of fits - I am pretty angsty, I wear emo Versace glasses, I have a penis and talk about my feelings. Tooch suggested I call the blog "The Man of Poor Choices," for which, frankly, there is ample evidence that this would be apropos. She asked me, last time we were together, "How can you be so open and honest on the blog?"

I didn't really have a good answer. I mean, it's probably some kind of mental illness, what with the sharing and the deeply personal and the "I don't even know you but I feel like I was at your birthday party" thing. I like it because, like many things in my life, I feel like it's a chance to perform.

Even if the audience is the computer screen, I'm still writing to you, Dear Reader. And I feel like I owe you new posts, new stories, new thoughts. That is motivation for me to write, and I need motivation. I am someone who wants to see the practical value of what I expend my energy doing, and to know that someone reads the blog makes it fun and worthwhile. I don't know if it could ever have a life outside of friends and family, but maybe it doesn't need to. Mat, for instance, doesn't allow comments on his blog. He updates it at will, whenever the mood arises (and writes beautifully, which you know by now because you've read it), and when I bring up a post of his, I get the sense that I've in some way intruded. The reaction is not cold, not at all. But I get the sense that it was impolite to bring it up, as though it's a place where he gets to exist without worrying about being entertaining or good (both of which ABOFF is).

I'm the opposite. This blog originally didn't allow comments, and you know how often I updated it? Yah, never. If I'm not performing for you, I'm performing for the judgmental audience in my head, and frankly I prefer your silent approval. Now I'm like, "Crap, I need to do more stuff so I have something to write about other than my thoughts about the blog." This is why early 2007 contains my favorite blog posts. I was so dark and stormy, trying new things, depressed, drunk off my ass. It was an excessive and expressive time, a time when I could smoke and spill my life story out of its iron glass and I'm glad I did it and would do it again. Now I can read about it and wonder, "Who the hell is writing this?" It's fun to think I've been more than one person, seen more than one corner of my mind. It makes me feel like I've actually, you know, lived.

Anyways, this is one of those rambling psychological posts, the kind I make when I'm just enjoying writing and don't have much of a point. We'll see if the new title sticks. And it's good to have a counterweight to posts like Sunday's - it is possible to have TOO much happen in a weekend.

Hope you're well, Dear Reader.

Your,
Martin