The Irrational Fear of Blogging

I woke up today and remembered that I had a blog.

I’m slightly amnesic after a Google search algorithm sideswiped me while I was surfing Craigslist. I also might be HTML intolerant.


Pavlov (Photo credit: sclopit)

Lately, the word “blog” sounds more like “blahg” when it rolls off my tongue, as if a rotten pistachio nut left a bad taste in my mouth.

Maybe it has something to do with watching five minutes of the new Fear Factor, or motion sickness from the dizzying swings of the S&P.

Or maybe because I fell off a pile of bills and hit my head at the bottom of my bank account.

I’m also pretty sure that that derelict Fear regularly squats on my shoulder, plunging the northern region of my torso into freezing temperatures.

All those ideas I scribbled onto scraps of paper went MIA, lost somewhere on my desk, or in my mind, after a Wizard of Oz squall sent me back to Kansas in an invisible hot air balloon, as I clicked my heels together three times in an attempt to kill yellow brick road ants that infested my shoes.

And those 3,080 emails clogging up my inbox might be a problem, or perhaps my neurotic perfectionist tendencies that encourages me to save. I hope my compulsion lands me a show on the Discovery Channel about email hoarding.

Reading blogs used to release dopamine into my brain and send coffee spurting from my nose. Now it just elicits a swift kick to the gut and a panicked grip to the windpipe.

Damn shoulder squatter!

What’s the problem? I love interacting with virtually every species of avatar.

Maybe earthling matters have clouded my perception. Writing a memoir squeezes the creative juices from my brain.

I’m also exhausted working three days a week, as a part-time desk jockey, earning dog food pay.

Because I’m Pavlov’s human, my dogs torture me every day. They’re always barking up the wrong tree. You know, the one that fell without a sound when I wasn’t around the other two days.

Pavlov's Bell(Dreaming.....on the Starlight train)

Image by mRio via Flickr

It’s time to wake up and spurt the coffee.

I won’t let fear – of what I don’t know – keep me away from the blogosphere.

Maybe, I’ll Google cyber shrinks and then dive this time, thus avoiding the concussive effects of an errant algorithm wave.


Does Fear ever squat on your shoulder?

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eBook Review: Shit that Pisses Me Off

When asked to review Peg Tittle’s eBook, “Shit that Pisses Me Off,” a collection of 25 previously published essays with attitude, I couldn’t say no. I had found a pissed off kindred spirit who writes radioactive prose with a hint of sardonic wit. Also, her name is cool.

Peg sets her sights on a subject with laser sharp accuracy then hurls words like missiles in her collection of 25 cogent essays on the foibles and hypocrisies of life.

In the first essay, “You Oughtta Need a License for that,” Peg deconstructs the disingenuous argument on the sanctity of life.

“We wouldn’t accept such wanton creation of life if it happened in the lab. Why do we condone it when it happens in bedrooms and backseats? . . . It should be illegal to create a John Doe Junior to carry on the family name/business.”

And on the question of the right to reproduce,

“Oh but we can’t interfere with people’s right to reproduce! . . . Merely having a capability doesn’t entail the right to exercise that capability.”

In “Mr. and Mrs.,” a rant on society’s branding of the sexes, Peg lashes out at the subliminal herding of men and women.

“. . . ‘people identify each other by sex. All the time. It’s like ‘Female Person Smith’ and ‘Male Person Brown’ or ‘Person-with-Uterus Smith’ and ‘Person-with Penis Brown.'”

Peg tackles the hypocrisy of gender genre fiction in a compelling piece aptly titled, “Women’s fiction.”

“And what exactly is ‘women’s fiction’? Fiction by women? . . . And what’s that, fiction that women are interested in? As if all women are interested in the same things.”

In the controversial essay, “In Commemoration of the Holocaust,” Peg dissects the duplicity of religion and mocks the sheep mentality of the flock.

“I’m not saying it didn’t happen. I’m not saying that, in any way, it was okay. But I’d like to point out that a devout Jew would’ve done, would do, the same thing to the Germans—if God told him to. ‘Oh but God would never command such a thing.’  Take a better look at your Bible . . .”

— A piece that caused me some angst because of my Jewish background. I understand Peg’s commentary on the hypocrisy of religion. But I was uncomfortable with her use of the Holocaust to formulate her argument. Perhaps, several examples would have been more “fair and balanced,” to quote Fox news.

Nothing fair and balanced about that echo chamber, IMO. Now that I’ve stepped on that landmine, I won’t be receiving triage from my right leaning friends.

Whether you agree or disagree with Peg’s position on the issues, “Shit that Pisses Me Off” will stick to your brain long after you’ve ingested every word — No thought evacuations here. Her writing is adept and titillating – her name is Tittle after all – her razor sharp words will slice and dice the cerebral jugular.

If you enjoy reading smart, witty essays that challenge the intellect, download a copy of “Shit that Pisses Me Off” for $2.99 at Amazon and get pissed off, too.

To learn more about Peg Tittle and her writing please swing by her website Bite-Sized Subversions – challenging thoughts about everyday things.

I am thrilled to feature a chapter from “Shit that Pisses Me Off” on Think Spin in the coming days.

Other books by Peg Tittle:

Critical Thinking: An Appeal to Reason

What If…Collected Thought Experiments in Philosophy

Should Parents be Licensed? Debating the Issues

Ethical Issues in Business—Inquiries, Cases, and Readings

Full disclosure: I received a free copy of “Shit that Pisses Me off” for writing the review.

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