is that, . . . “I define myself as I tell you who I am.“ Taylor suggests that one of the ways we find identity, is by making our life stories public. Thus the World Wide phenomena of blogging. We are telling our life stories, making them public, but in that process we are defining ourselves. We want to put our experiences out there for the world to see them (validate them?). The problem with blogging is transparency and honesty. I have to be really careful that my honesty and transparency is genuine rather than calculated for effect to make a point about missions or to define myself in some manner that does not reflect reality. That is why it is good that my wife reads my blog (even when I am writing about her) because she knows when I am BSing. That is a good thing . . . I think we call that accountability.
This medium for communication though, is crippled and held captive by it’s monologue nature. Sure we can leave comments and have micro-mini conversations via that, but really, this is a monologue format. It can become a platform to make me appear holy, or sensitive (NOT) or daring or outrageous or non-conforming or intelligent or well spoken or rebellious or Godly or a good father or a bad husband or 10 foot tall and bullet proof or WHATEVER! Because I control which snapshots of my life I show you, and even worse, I have spin control, framing power, to set myself in the best possible light. ”I define myself as I tell you who I am.“
And culturally this can be seen not only in the blogging community, where we are making a new tribe as Coupland would say, but it can be seen in Instant Messaging, weblogs, webrings, facebook, and on I could go. This is where we define our public selves, in this carefully controlled environment that gives me almost limitless power in the framing of myself. And this ”I define myself as I tell you who I am“ does not stop with words and pictures and blogs. It can been seen in body art and body piercings. Everyone is telling a story as they modify their bodies. There almost always is a point to it, a story, an experience . . . if you don’t believe me, then ask someone who has a tattoo or interesting piercing and see what doors to that person may open up.
Though one warning here. I still recall once when I was riding on one of the fast trains in Switzerland going from Zurich airport to Basel when I would catch a ride to go visit my kids at BFA. This particular day I was wearing a double earring that I had had especially made at a jeweler in PA. It was a cross and then a lightening bolt, connected by a tiny gold chain. And a 20-something year old gal got on the train and sat down and started making conversation. She asked me about my earring (to hear my story, my definition of myself) and I asked her about hers and what they meant for her. Then she asked me about my ”art“. I show that I am a short fat middle-aged man now, when I confess that I had no earthly idea what she was talking about. She asked again if I had any ”art“ and when she got little reaction from me, she pointed to one of her tattoos and said ”body art“. (I am seriously thickheaded some times.) I then confessed that while I had some really cool earrings, I did not have any ”art“.
That was it, conversation was over, she got up and moved to another car because my story, my defining of myself, was over. I often think about that chick and wonder if the story I told her about the Cross and the lightening bolt have stayed with her as significantly as my inability to communicate with her because I had no ”art“? So you have been warned in a minor manner . . . but if you can handle the potential of a little rejection, you will be amazed at what you might hear as people tell you their stories, as they define themselves.
In closing my sermon monologue, . . . er I mean blog, I want to say that I am a complete and utter sinner, in the Kingdom of God only by His initiative and amazing grace, through nothing that I have accomplished or done in my entire life, and that I humbly admit that I incurably paint myself as better than I am . . . OK, so you know now.
This medium for communication though, is crippled and held captive by it’s monologue nature. Sure we can leave comments and have micro-mini conversations via that, but really, this is a monologue format. It can become a platform to make me appear holy, or sensitive (NOT) or daring or outrageous or non-conforming or intelligent or well spoken or rebellious or Godly or a good father or a bad husband or 10 foot tall and bullet proof or WHATEVER! Because I control which snapshots of my life I show you, and even worse, I have spin control, framing power, to set myself in the best possible light. ”I define myself as I tell you who I am.“
And culturally this can be seen not only in the blogging community, where we are making a new tribe as Coupland would say, but it can be seen in Instant Messaging, weblogs, webrings, facebook, and on I could go. This is where we define our public selves, in this carefully controlled environment that gives me almost limitless power in the framing of myself. And this ”I define myself as I tell you who I am“ does not stop with words and pictures and blogs. It can been seen in body art and body piercings. Everyone is telling a story as they modify their bodies. There almost always is a point to it, a story, an experience . . . if you don’t believe me, then ask someone who has a tattoo or interesting piercing and see what doors to that person may open up.
Though one warning here. I still recall once when I was riding on one of the fast trains in Switzerland going from Zurich airport to Basel when I would catch a ride to go visit my kids at BFA. This particular day I was wearing a double earring that I had had especially made at a jeweler in PA. It was a cross and then a lightening bolt, connected by a tiny gold chain. And a 20-something year old gal got on the train and sat down and started making conversation. She asked me about my earring (to hear my story, my definition of myself) and I asked her about hers and what they meant for her. Then she asked me about my ”art“. I show that I am a short fat middle-aged man now, when I confess that I had no earthly idea what she was talking about. She asked again if I had any ”art“ and when she got little reaction from me, she pointed to one of her tattoos and said ”body art“. (I am seriously thickheaded some times.) I then confessed that while I had some really cool earrings, I did not have any ”art“.
That was it, conversation was over, she got up and moved to another car because my story, my defining of myself, was over. I often think about that chick and wonder if the story I told her about the Cross and the lightening bolt have stayed with her as significantly as my inability to communicate with her because I had no ”art“? So you have been warned in a minor manner . . . but if you can handle the potential of a little rejection, you will be amazed at what you might hear as people tell you their stories, as they define themselves.
In closing my sermon monologue, . . . er I mean blog, I want to say that I am a complete and utter sinner, in the Kingdom of God only by His initiative and amazing grace, through nothing that I have accomplished or done in my entire life, and that I humbly admit that I incurably paint myself as better than I am . . . OK, so you know now.
No comments:
Post a Comment