It is incredible the thoughts that seem worthy of writing when you know you have a venue for them.
This occurred to me the other day as I was driving and a car near me honked, I believe to let the car in front know that the light had changed. Of course, it could have been to tell the idiot in the car to pay attention. The result would have been the same--a beep or two on the car's horn. What made me consider this is my recognition of the complete inability to know whether the honk was intended as a gentle reminder or an impatient, irate admonition (at least, if the recipient of the honk could not see the facial expression or flailing arms). I must have been in a good mood, or I would have assumed that the gesture was meant to cause offense. Of course, it is easier to think of these things objectively if one is not on the receiving end.
Although the car honk is non-verbal, the issue is one of tone, as it is in written communication--notably, email. Arrangement of words alone is usually inadequate to convey the sense in which the meaning was meant. This comes across in the user profile of The Ironic Catholic, who writes, as illustration of her definition of irony, " I.e.:This is a joke, people." The words themselves do not necessarily communicate the tone of voice in which the sentence would be delivered, but since we are used to hearing this phrase, the ", people" provides sufficient indicator. Ignoring that context on the side of the page, one might take this humorous post literally--and did, until one realized the spoof in the middle of an email to me about the post. Hence, net culture has developed the smilies, and variations on the smilies, to indicate mood, or tags like "(ha, ha)" to indicate jokes. Or we fail to do either, and are misinterpreted.
I assume that I was misinterpreted by the blogger who deleted my comment on this post (link removed). Who knows? I was being sincere, but could not necessarily indicate it. Political posts get so nasty so fast; I usually avoid them completely. Even agreement can be taken as mockery.
The ability to change what you have said, or what someone else has said in response to you, rather contradicts my idea at the beginning of this post that thoughts have to be "worthy" of being written--an idea that can be traced to our cultural impression that writing has a privileged position, and that something, once written, is permanently fixed. With the blog, however, you can delete me, I can delete you, I can delete something that feels particularly vulnerable if I choose to do so. But does that really feel honest? Or genuine? Or do these things really matter, since blogs are, after all, "virtual"?
After the fact, I decided that I would assume "technology failure" from the deleted comment and not give the link. Further calling the permanence of writing into question. . .