The Readership, such as it is now, may or may not remember a time in The Distant Past when I insisted on the construction of an Internet empire, mandating (what turned out to be) disparate, ill-defined, and unconnected websites and (horrible buzzword incoming) web presences. This is not how one builds an Internet empire (and yrs. truly was, in fact, fully aware of this and did not actually desire the construction of an honest-to-goodness Internet empire, but it was a convenient phrase for approximating what yt. had in mind, in terms of launching what one can call—ugh—a “web presence”). The reason really was to preserve some anonymity for myself. Keep the Internet and the real world siloed. Keep the streams from crossing.
Recently I have had a change of heart, and so I’m just going to rely on my FILDI, here, when I say this: I suspect that the previous decision was motivated deeply by fear of discovery by People, Real People, People That I Know Personally Who Might and Probably Will Judge. Which made the decision basically a capitulation to bullshit, in the sense that if (say) a potential employer saw this, well, shit, let’s not let that happen. But then there’s something that I think is vital in these tough Internet times, which is a place that you own, I mean, really own.
There are limitations in the extent that you can really own something on the Internet, obviously (because even yt. is just some average schmuck and isn’t going to be buying and running a server out of a bedroom closet [which gets close to really owning, but makes clear how much more work is left]). But what I’m driving at is this: I’m trying to get close, at least philosophically, to really owning a thing on the Internet, in a genuine way that things like Facebook and Twitter don’t allow, and that wasn’t going to happen until I, that is, me, was willing to fess up and, well, own this. And lo: it has been owned.