The statute of limitations on some of my posts has expired!
Please check the date. This blog is old… Really old by internet standards. Anything older than three years may contain ideas and opinions for which such a gap of time has likely reshaped, altered, softened, re-jigged, or otherwise changed those ideas and opinions to a state incongruent with my current existence. So, while I’ll stand by who I was when I wrote it, I won’t necessarily defend the motivations that caused me to write it nor defend the content itself. That’s my particular line in the metaphorical sand.
Who I Was. Who Was I?
See, the thing about writing a public discourse that spans multiple decades is that you change. I occasionally flip back through some of the content that I put up many moons ago and discover that… well, hey… I wrote that before I was married or had a kid. Or, I wrote that during a particularly stressful span of time. Or, I wrote that when I was pissed off about some political nonsense that doesn’t even matter any more.
That’s my particular line in the metaphorical sand.
I could delete it. I could hide it. I could censor myself. But something about that strikes me as dishonest. This is not a exercise in revisionism, folks.
I read somewhere that in a span of seven years every molecule in your body is gradually replaced so that after just that short span of time you are an entirely different person… technically speaking. I know that philosophically speaking and from a legal and continuity perspective, that is a moot point. But give me a break. If you read something old and disagree, move on. I probably have.
So here’s the deal: if old content — anything that has been flagged with my little notice about old posts — pops up in your searches and you want to pick a fight about it, tough luck. It’s archive material to me and it is no longer on a hill I’m going to defend in any way, shape or form. Have a laugh, sure. Tsk-tsk my past self for his silly ideas and idealisms, go on. Hold present-day-me to account for old words, get lost.