This is not a post. That doesn’t make much sense, I know, as by all appearances what you’re looking at resembles nothing so much as a post: some words posted on a blog, no need for clarification of any kind. But sometimes things are not as they seem; in fact, I wonder if things are ever as they seem. In any case, what I mean by not a post is something quick and undeveloped, dashes of this or that, semi-thoughtful responses to an article or conversation, an idea for or chunk of a longer piece that I am not at the moment ready, willing, and/or able to get after, etc. I continue to fantasize about finding ways to order and keep track of such entities.  I am hoping the presence of a repository, a system of sorts, will push, or at least nudge, me toward the habit of regularly posting (the verb, the verb, as in reference to bail, a job opportunity, or a sign, as in not everything that is posted is a post) intentionally slight Not Posts (so-called not only by negation but by default). The thousands (at a rate of 10 or so a day) texts and e-mails to self; the pile of printed out articles (interesting, infuriating, confirming) with often indecipherable commentary-in-progress scribbled in the margins: the ubiquitous yellow pads (without you I would die and you’re killing me as we speak), the tweets: none of it is enough. Let me also add that the posts that I do call posts (see, for example, my most recent) are also at odds with the conventional understanding of that category of artistic, if you will, production: longish and, consequently, time consuming to produce, not to mention (Brother Ed: you meant this as a compliment, I hope/think/will assume?) complicated. So there you have it, “posts” and Not Posts, the treachery of language, my process on display out of what feels like necessity. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

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