"No Comment"

I was surprised to read the The Misspent One's reaction to a commentless post. I left a comment there that kept expanding in my head until I could no longer contain it and was forced to release it here.

You see, when I write something and post it here on this blog and no one comments, I just assume you are so awestruck by the brilliance of my writing that you fear anything you scrawl in the comment box will look terrible in comparison.

Or, sometimes the power of my ideas is such that they completely sweep away whatever thoughts you had in your head, replacing them with mine, in which case commenting is no longer necessary because anything you'd want to say in the comments has already been said by me in the post.

Or maybe after reading my post you are overcome by a surge of excitement that compels you to send the post to everyone you know and then call each of them up in turn to be sure they've read it and then discuss it at length, all the while basking and luxuriating in the post's beauty and logic and truth and wit and never wanting that special glow you're experiencing to end, something you fear will happen once you start commenting.

Or (and I sincerely hope this isn't the case) maybe you're dumbstruck, sitting there with your jaw hanging on your chest, drool spilling onto your shirt, as your brain, unable to process the intense concentration of raw intelligence my post just injected into it, suffers a system crash so severe it renders you incapable of any mental processes, including, without limitation, those needed for commenting.

So you see, I don't feel so bad when my readers don't comment.

Except you. I like your comments. No, I live for them. When they're not here, I feel their absence. Deeply. They're all that keep me writing this blog. Who'm I kidding -- they're all that keep anyone reading this blog. So, on behalf of myself and all the readers of this blog, your fervent comment reading fans, we thank you kindly for your comments.

(This post is a repeat. I first posted "'No Comment'" on October 15, 2004. I really do appreciate your comments, having consistently received the highest-grade comments out there. Comments that usually amplify and improve my posts. Comments that make me laugh and make me think. Comments that refrain from offering penis enlargement pills or the lowest mortgage rates. Your comments have also helped me figure out the purpose of blogging -- it's nothing more than an elaborate email attraction device. Comments often lead to emails which sometimes grow to correspondence, and I've found, much to my surprise, that I cherish these conversations. In fact I cherish them so much that I now have a clear vision of my future: once I manage to attract a sufficiently large stable of regular correspondents I will allow Outer Life to wither away and die, freeing me up to prattle away all day and night with my new pen pals. For such an extreme introvert, I've discovered I can be quite the chatty Cathy. Who knew? Blogging: is there anything it can't do?)

Comments

[Quiet Bubble]

I generally assume that there's no comments on my posts because *sigh* no one is actually reading them. But it's nice to know there are glass-half-full bloggers like you out there. Unless, of course, you're being sarcastic, in which it's nice to know there are half-glass-empty bloggers out there with senses of humor. Anyway, nice post.

[Waterfall]

Comments on my blog seem to come in surges. I won't get more than one or two comments for a few days, and then suddenly I have ten or twelve in a single post.

What's weird is that I get the most comments in the "personal" posts that I'm most ambivalent about sharing with the world. Go figure.

Hope you're enjoying the blogging break. We miss you.

[DarkoV]

Ah ha, nefarious means to an end! I knew there was a trap, albeit a verbal one, laid out in the web of your sweet writings. Comments, like flies, will be drawn to your blog's entries. You'll cull out the tasty morsels from the deadwood. You'll keep the interesting commenter's e-mails wrapped in webbing, alive but barely mobile. The rest you'll allow to float off, unquenched and despondent. Oh, you are the cruel one, Mr. OL!

[Vanessa]

Gorgeous post, that.

[A Circle of Quiet]

Choice A is my usual reason for silence (the awestruck by the brilliance one), but you neglected to offer this option: the incredibly witty and intelligent comments themselves can make this box seem like a club for which one needs to qualify... very exclusive, very funny!

Hope you are enjoying your two-week step away. It's great to re-read some of your gems.

~Diane

[Safiyyah]

I agree with Diane. Your posts are often so profound I'm stunned into respectful silence. And at times the comments are just as cleverly crafted, leaving this poor reader struggling to sound half as intelligible. I did notice that your writing has improved quite significantly since you first started blogging. This gives me hope:-) Looking forward to your "official" return.