Kleng Meedercher, Risen Iddien

Yesterday I started thinking about why I keep a lot of secrets. Partly, I think it's that I like being mysterious. It's kind of fun - even if I am usually not all that successful (it's kind of hard to be mysterious when a little excitment makes you go all rabid chipmunk-esque). Partly, and this is the part that worries me, it might be that there are just things that I don't like admitting. It's not that I am ashamed of most of these things (some of them, yes I probably have a bit of shame, let's just say it's the catholic in me).

On that note - I am going to own up to my deep and abiding love of below level reading. It might be one of my favorite past times. In case the term "below level reading" confuses anyone, here is an example. I love the Gossip Girl books. Love them. Not only are they trashy/chick lit (which is also below level, but at least is found in the adult section, not the childrens') but they are written for highschoolers. Time called them "Sex and the City for the younger set."

My darling sister lent me her copy of Postsecret. Postsecret is a coffee-table type book that bills itself as "found art." Basically, it is a compilation of secrets, submitted anonymously via home made post cards. I am so jealous of "Frank," it's creator, that I might just die. Imagine getting to learn all of those secrets before everyone else. The only problem for me would be not knowing whose secrets I was reading, or even what kind of people they were coming from (besides, in some cases, people with real problems). Then again, I am obsessed with the book (and the site - www.postsecret.com) and I don't know who wrote them.

Another problem: what if he got a really good secret, like something of national/international/cosmic importance, but couldnt do anything about it because he didnt know where it was coming from? Or if it the secret was true? It would kind of be like an interior Cassandra syndrome - he would know this thing, and could think it all he wanted, but probably wouldnt even really believe it. That could be too much for me to bear...but then again I fool myself into not believing things all the time, so maybe I could bear it.

I don;t know if I would write into Postsecret. Of course I have secrets (everyone has secrets). I like having secrets. In fact, there is no good reason for why I decide somethings are "secrets" beyond the fact that I like keeping them. Maybe that is the secret I would send in to Frank.

I am listening to a radio news story about MacWorld Expo this past week. Apparently it tried to bill itself as some kind of techie-spiritual experience; and people bought it. The commentator described how the theme from Space Odyssey (and other inspiring songs) accompanied the presentation of three 'revolutionary' products, and how no one laughed. The convention collectively played along with Steve Jobs schtick: widescreen IPOD/IPOD phone will change the world. The commentator attributed the credulity and lack of cynicism displayed by Macfriends, paying customers and jounalists to apology for their dismissal of the Ipod in 2001. he also mentioned how the recent allegations of stock back-dating against Jobs have been swept under the table.

Not really sure what to do with this; especially coming from the journalists. It is their job to be skeptical; to make sure that we see the whole picture (not just how cool the new toys will be). Not really sure how I feel about how easily a convention full of adults can be sucked in with the promise of a couple of cool new toys; or how Apple can bill said cool toys as 'revolutionary' or inspiring. Can music, lights and a pretty speech really convince people that a phone/tv will change the world? How gullible are we? What human trait makes us such easy targets for someone promising that they can change the world? That promise (combined with an appropriately psuedo-spiritual marketing schtick) has been used by everyone from political leaders, to economists to hollywood. Can't we find inspiration in something that is worth being inspired by? Not to be dramatic, but the whole thing just smacks of being an example of a type spiritual bankruptcy that irks me.

I guess I just really wish that there had been a little undercurrent of sarcasm or irony to the presentation; or to the collective interpretation of it. Eventually, it is likely that I will buy at least one of the above-mentioned products. It's just that I wish that they were billed as what they are (toys) and not under the guise of a religious experience.

I am drunk. I am obsessed with th OC. I am watching the OC, drunk. What does this mean for the upcoming year?

Nothing productive. Must leave the country.

Ciao