How people love the shroud of anonimity that the internet affords them so much. It gives them the opportunity to step outside themselves and try something new. Like being a pervert. It definitely gives people a chance to live as the pervert inside. This mainly shows itself in email as far as I can see, although there is a shitload of nasty sites out there, it’s just that email is much more infectious, viral.

But the same media that gets used to hide your real face is so public. I got reading some weblogs today. Most people use them exactly as you would assume they use their diary. Got up early, had a bath. Mom was buggin’ about me not cleaning the dog. That kind of thing. In the past these micro-memoirs would have been guarded with such secrecy, but now anyone in the world can read that Joyce from Berkeley’s boyfriend has gone off to join the Navy (she’s taking it quite well though). I just can’t get into that kind of thing. I kept a diary for a bit when I was about seventeen, but the book I wrote in only had really small spaces, so I only wrote a little bit.

Now I’ve got to thinking that there isn’t much point having a weblog unless it’s public, so I might go and publicise it. Not too much, I think I’ll just post the link to Google. Then again, the stuff that I have written here is kind of disparate and, I suspect, not very interesting. What I found interesting about the blogs I was reading today were the day to day “Mom is mad at me” bits, because they’re clues about lifestyle in all these places in the world. Norwich is not interesting or uninteresting, it’s just another place in the world. More than that, when it comes to weblogs, it’s just another way of life in the world, different from the others. Weblogs are perhaps the one thing I have found that are as international and as Global Village-y as the internet is hyped to be. There’s millions of them, all by everyday people, going about the little things. Time to head over to blogdex again…

Also, Mat Denney lives in a Two Dimensional Pink Plastiverse.