Monday, September 22, 2008


We all have our reasons.

Mine are my family and my predilection for words and linking them in a way that’s uniquely mine. I create this fingerprint of ordered letters and intermittent images for the benefit of my psyche, my sisters, my mom, and those of you that I like. And to those of you I like: know that you are a select few.

Conversely, there is a specific set of readers that I don’t blog for.
The interlopers. Those that maliciously spy.

I don’t refer to those that harmlessly blog stalk. No, there are affable blog stalkers who have revealed themselves and become favored parts of my faceless community. (Good grief, I blog stalk. There are plenty of blogs out there that I visit annonymously, lapping up pretty pictures, funny stories, magnificent word-use, and interesting details.) Innnocently blog stalk-away, people; I respect the desire to find comfort in the warmth of anonymity!

The specific set of readers I'm indicating are different than your average blog stalker. The unwelcome ones I’m referring to are those that frequent this particular URL for information they can twist into weaponry. And I now know who they are. By name.

In their capable, conniving hands, ostensibly innocent details I drop here become dangerous.

I’m not brilliant, but I’m definitely not dense, and I know the brand of details that qualify as innocuous.

Go private! You smart, friendly ones may suggest, but I reject that concept for a number of reasons that I’m not interested in wasting brain power on explaining today.

So because there are those that stop by this spot for the bits I leave behind and use them in ways not only unintended but also underhanded, my personal bits, even those that have the ability to serve a therapeutic purpose for me and contain entertainment value for you, will now be withheld.

Blame the Them.

They are low. They are lame. They are those I wish I could love.

But there are other things to love.

Want to know what I love? I love that those visitors I reference just read this. I love that those readers I like understand what I wrote. I love they are intelligent.

And I very much love that those who visit my space for all the wrong reasons read this post and didn’t understand all of it.

I love that bits of it were over their heads. It’s especially delightful to me that the register on which I write is low, not especially highfalutin, and full of simple colloquialisms the average Jane and Joe can easily swallow whole. Yet this same common register muddles my unwelcome readers, tripping them as they go.

They know who they are.

(So if you’re confused by the intent, aim and audience of this post, know that I don’t reference you. )

And to you that know who you are: Though you’re not welcome, I encourage you to continue to visit Remarks from Sparks and do your darndest to glean details that you believe you can manipulate into tools that can damage me and tear my family asunder.

You will not have success.