Irony Becomes Her

Resurrection

When my faithful readers last "saw" me, I was wrestling with the words of my Lord regarding being nice to mean people (in essence). I even signed off with an uncharacteristic ambiguity that could easily have been interpreted as a desire to be wicked and ungrateful. Since then, my unplanned blog sabbatical has resulted in something I didn't want or expect to happen when I started it: a month that won't appear in the archives.

Poor October 2006. It was only one victim of my very first full-time job. Friends and even close relatives found themselves in a chilly, unresponsive void incomparable to any they'd experienced before at my behest. Though of itself it was not an insurmountable factor, I never thought a mid-term election would be as influential as it was in cutting me off from my acquaintance this fall. The "Political Science" part of my B.A. is seeing some unexpected traffic in my occupation, and I allowed November 7 to combine with other factors to provoke my silence.

I'd like to put that all behind me (at least, acknowledge its state of already being there), and even as the last of annual plants dies I would like to resurrect Irony Becomes Her this Thanksgiving. Thankfulness is one of my themes year-round, and I'm not fond of pumpkin pie, stuffing and gravy. The holiday, then, has little to do with my affective motivation for doing this. Still, my desire for all to enjoy love and fellowship is not weak, and sincerely I offer a "Happy Thanksgiving" to any who might stumble across my words.

Discipline is usually an unpleasant word, however necessary it is and is understood to be by its recipients. It's one I would like to bring back to my blogging. I do not mean, "Once a week I will blog whether I have something to say or not" (see blog subhead). I mean I will feel a weight of responsibility to share what I do have to say; I have promised several people never to stop writing, and I feel dangerously close to breaking my word.

My editorial position at the local newspaper means I do write, every day. Sometimes what I write is printed in 48-point font as a hook for people to read what someone else wrote. I also fix what others write so readers might actually be attracted to look at it, however outlandish and illogical it is. My "letters to the editor" page has been propounded by more than one person as the oftenest-read one in the paper; though this hypothesis increases the soberness with which I approach my job, I am not sure whether I want it to be true or not.

Because of my association with the newspaper, I have already multiple times been accused of membership in a vast media conspiracy of one sort or another. I need another outlet, one in which the nastiest accusation about my motives would involve arrogance or possibly loneliness and desperation. I embrace my identity as a "blogger," and I invite my "alternative media" audience to join into a conversation where love and edification are the rule of the day.

If you'd rather have conflict and controversy, write me at work.

posted by Lynn @ 6:04 AM