What, you may ask, is textual posturing?

-How long can one liar string another along? A month, a year, a decade? as long as the lies are inherently true, or the truths are inherently lies, as long as the words keep flowing, as long as you watch the eyes... Dann(on) Drinkable Yogurt


I was thinking about different modes of communication, and previously, naively, I assumed that they were all just extensions of one another, the same process with different output. I would like to rectify my position and clarify it for the world, or, more likely, for myself, which is essentially the only way that I can interface with the world, no?

There is a decided difference between permanent (or semi-permanent), computer generated communication, time-stamped (but manipulatable for those who know, I am sure, I just don't know...) with vestiges of itself trailing behind haphazardly, and the organic writing of letters, by hand, or further, of actual conversation. I believe it has to do with honesty filters. Or at least in my case it does... (I will concede that in the case of computer-aided writing due to handicap, there may be a sublimation of the rules or of the honesty filters, but I can't think about that right now, so I will leave it for further debate).

Which brings me to the point of my early-morning musing. I believe that we are all guilty, if to varying degrees, of what I like to call "textual posturing". This of course is a recourse only available to written conversation (save for the presence of recording equipment, which essentially reverts the spoken word back into a text, available for multiple reviews, meta-analysis and such... but I insist, this only holds true, in terms of honesty, if the person knows that she or he is being recorded and therefore has the wherewithal to edit his or her utterances appropriately with anticipation). Yes, so, textual posturing is a trick that we use to interact with one another, to invite interest, to allay real action, to try on different personas, a sort of high-class drag for the mind.

When I speak of honesty, I think maybe I am actually speaking of absolute "truth" (if such a thing exists), in mental drag, "truth" of who one is becomes malleable, playful, but changing the facts, or re-presenting them in a specific order, or uttering words for the sheer beauty of the sound as it falls along the page, or as it is whispered urgently in the re-reading, does not eliminate the "real" existence or the "truth" of who a person is. Perhaps it even makes them more transparent.

There are so few spaces in which what we say has no hidden marker, no negotiation of wants or needs, that in fact, textual posturing is just my way of addressing what in person would be "putting on a front". We all do it, right?.. putting on a certain pair of pants, a suit, a tie, a dress, a perfume to walk into a room and make an "impression", so, what if the room does not exist in (con)textual space? The posturing is the putting on, the _performance_ of you for others or for yourself, to explore what it is that you really want or need or are capable of. Much safer to kill a person in writing than to do it in reality or to even utter it in reality (especially not in a "public" space, given the latest Orwellian nightmare that our anesthetized country has bought hook, line and sinker - I mean who _doesn't_ want to be a "patriot")

But I digress. The beauty or the danger (which collude? collide?) in this sort of textual posturing are precisely found in the multi-faceted interpretations that can spring forth. Is subversion in the words, or in the acts or in the thoughts that the words or acts produce in others? I, for my part, am absolutely guilty of "speaking" in mixed metaphors, heady, unstable ground to walk on, but exciting nonetheless. Dear reader, or dear me, or dear god...this manifesto is meant so that nobody (not even my self) will ever again take my words at face value: the meanings change, they flow from my brain to my hand to my screen. They are received by eyes, invited and not, my own, others, and can at once be a declamation of freedom, a supplication, a repentance.

The beauty resides in the fact that one text can never cancel out another, cannot annul its existence, cannot detract from its original meaning or intent. Simultaneously existing, the "queen" is out on the town, in al his glory, in all her demise.


And so, I have again failed to draw a firm line between my original argument and where my thoughts have taken me, but I return to the concept of honesty filters. I _do_ believe that there are still spaces, and places, in which textual (or other) posturing takes a back seat. I must think on exactly how this works... a letter written by hand (thanks! MEK:) or a phone call, not intended to materialize beyond the confines of the enclosed airwaves. Perhaps these are more "honest" spaces, in which motives fall away and our persons are more genuine, less occulting.

I particularly avoid discussing face-to-face communication because in it there are far too many variables... beyond the "fronting", there is the pure physical reality of a person and the arsenal of arms (ha) with which we manipulate our reality, the eyes, cast down, the hiding behind one's hair (ok... this is probably just me, but lacking other substantial referents...) Yes, physical confrontation will remain unexamined, I think, for a goodly time; being manifold and me lacking the ability to interpret. But, I might come back to this idea of physical confrontation again...sometime... maybe sooner than I imagine... or later than would be prudent.

So, by my own words I am asking you to disregard, or to temporarily suspend belief, in what I write today. I _do_ exist, I am real, but I also like to play... there is quite a bit of reality to be sifted through, and for those of you who were concerned, I am still, I think, OK...

Textual posturing... textural proctoring...sexual proxying... a vexing thing.