Anonymity

One of the neat things that has grown up around the trend of blogging is the wonderfully symbiotic relationship that is engendered between exhibitionists and voyeurs.  For every one person that elects to flaunt themselves out on the internet for all to see, there are at least 23 (I've counted) other persons eager to live vicariously through the words, pictures and podcasts of others.

I've elected to use this medium due to its eminent portability, simple aesthetics, ease of use and, frankly, it provides the opportunity to put myself out there in a manner that is somewhat akin to stepping out on a stage.  Only I'm playing in front of a two-way mirror and most often have no idea who's watching.  It's only the few random audience members who elect to throw a rose or a tomato onto the stage that make themselves known.

I think this is appealing both to the performer and the audience since the former is more inclined to feel uninhibited and the latter more likely to partake of the performance feeling absolutely no qualms at leaving and grumbling whatever disparaging comments to himself as come to mind.  I know I'm much more likely to feel free to make a fool of myself in front of an unknown audience of thousands than a small handful of intimate faces.

A caveat with which to read these sorts of things, of course, is that you're never getting the full story.  The same as what you'll find in an autobiography, you're only going to read that which the author elects to reveal, and only in the manner in which he reveals it.  You're never going to meet Simon Fraser through these words, only ever Simian Farmer.  A person can mold herself in any way she chooses.  That has a lot of appeal in itself.  I wonder what the Meinkampf blog would have looked like?

I've become increasingly curious about the audience over the past year.  I mean, I write this stuff for myself and to track the progress of certain domestic events, but knowing that there are others reading it invariably influences what I write.  (I'm not go to admit to any indictable offences for instance.  Not that I've committed any.  Honest, officer.)  So I naturally wonder who's reading this stuff.  If I face the honest truth, I've become a stats whore.

I'm truly amazed at the quality of the friendships that have inadvertently bloomed through casual interaction over wires and nodes and servers and such.  Idle comments lead to quippy Emails and conversations and decreasingly trepidatious discussions about surprisingly revealing details.  Over the past few years, I can say that I've gathered unto myself several truly good friendships with people I've never met as well as a myriad other acquaintances.

But back to being a stats whore.

I track all the hits I get on this site and, over the past year, have averaged about 40 per day.  Many misdirected search queries, references from other sites and folks who have bookmarked me for regular or irregular perusal.  Some of them comment, most don't and then the vast majority flit on by wondering why this site came up as a search result for, corpse locked in a freezer beneath Lance and his Bunny.  Seriously.  You think I'd make that shit up?

I wonder what draws certain people back here when they stumble and don't move on.  Do you know me?  Are we related?  (I know my mother reads this sometimes... Hi Mom!!)  I can find out a little bit about each and every one of you, but never enough to sate my curiosity.

For instance, I've never received a comment of any sort from my most avid reader.  I know most of his (assuming the gender) IP address, the fact that he lives in or near Calgary, Alberta, his computer runs MS Windows 2000 and he browses with IE 6.0.  (Silly rabbit, try this on for size.)  I also know that he sometimes swings by four or five times a day, spending upwards of half an hour at a time.

I want to reach out and see the faces that saunter by this little performance and become familiar with some of those that return every now and again for an encore.  But all I can see is my own face in the two-way mirror at the front of the stage and I must appease myself with a little narcissistic indulgence.  (Oh c'mon!  It's really what I'm here for anyway, isn't it?)

The show goes on, and I'm kinda glad that there's no big hook that looms out of stage left and yoinks me off.

Comments

[Paula]

Odd, I have never once considered myself a voyeur. But, of course, I only started reading after we'd became idle-post/quippy email friends. I know I would feel voyeuristic if I read a blog of someone I didn't know, and with one exception, I do not read blogs of people who started out as strangers. But part of that is my being a social worker: I do not ask for personal information without informed consent and privacy. I kind of have this thing about privacy. There are no Paula blogs.

But back to you. The relationship you describe is more complicated than performer/voyeur. Simon, you invite the world, seeking interaction (support, validation, spirited disagreement). It's a dynamic process, no matter if only a handful of lurkers come out of the shadows. Your stats illustrate the impact of your blog, even if you are not given verbal feedback. That clearly sustains you almost as much as our insightful witticisms:)

As for your mystery fan: someone from your past?

Paula

[Paul]

I see visits from the strangest locales. I sometimes suspect that half of the hits I'm seeing on my blog are simply the results of badly designed search engine spiders.

[elizabeth]

Nice post, Si. Good insights.

My own exercise in exhibitionism was jumpstarted by three things: insatiable in-laws who didn't feel I kept them enough abreast of grandchildrenly activities, we recently moved away from dear friends we'd like to keep in touch and up-to-date with, and a desire to journal anecdotes and family happenings for posterity. The later reason has become the more motivating one, but I will admit that I'm mindful of the possible diversity of my audience. It influences not just how I write but what I write. I don't mind if strangers who might happen along know what's going on in our lives, but I do care about them knowing certain information, like say where we actually live.

All that said, I've been surprised at the thrill I get whenever someone posts. I imagine it would be another little frisson to find out how many people read but didn't post - not to mention frustrating! "Come on, people, what's up?? Respond, dang yer hide! Say something, anything! Am I not entertaining enough for you? Does nothing I say instigate you in SOME manner?" Ah, egos. They aren't just for the rich and famous anymore. I feel like Sally Field.

[Claire]

DeLurking..
I stumbled upon your site - I believe for the first time via AlbertaBlogs and was intrigued by your writing. I find it to be entertaining and from the heart, which is why I check in almost daily.

Wonderful site - keep it up!

[Toque]

If we are talking about whoring then I am more of a pro than you, averaging 46 per day :-)

But that's not what it's about is it? For me it's a way of disemminating information, venting my spleen, and keeping folks back in England informed of my activities.

Toque readers are a peculiar mix of Albertans, family, and English nationalists visiting from my other two blogs.

[Tina]

I'm with you, Simon ... I wanna know more. and more. and MORE. =) Tina

[Penny]

I am pretty sure i found you through Paul, but kept coming back because I like your style of writing and am intrigued by the daily nuances of the young family as it wends its way through life....oh and Declan is just beautiful, so I'll tolerate you to get to see him;)