Adventures in the Interwebs

A few days ago I offhandedly composed this post, a none-too-positive review of an art show I went to. Then, after a little reconsidering, I followed it up with another, more accurate reflection on the show and my reaction to it. In my mind, that was case closed. Imagine my surprise, then, when I opened my email later that day to find a Facebook friend request from none other than Mr. Mararian, the artist himself. I suppose I can thank google alerts for that one.

My secondary reaction, after surprise, was confusion. Not in regard to accepting the request, but why was he friending me? Did he read my panning of his show, even if I revised my statements the next day? There was the chance that he only saw that there was a blog that mentioned him and then researched the author (me), did a simple search and figured he was contacting one of his newest fans? Since, in my mind, the only people who would ever care to read this blog are my mother and a few high school friends, it had never even occurred to me that someone mentioned as an actual subject (save for yesterday's post) could then actually read my comments.

This is naturally what real critics have to deal with all the time, so I guess it is even more incentive (though few critics/bloggers abide by this) to take extra care in crafting a negative argument. Had I know that Mr. Mararian would perhaps stumble upon my initial post, I would have been far less haphazard about my review of it. This isn't to say I would've tried to suck up to him and needlessly praised his work, but I would've been sure to have printed a more accurate appraisal of his show. Methinks there is a lesson to be learned here.

My next question was whether I should acknowledge his request in some way. I wondered if I should send him a message, apologizing for my first rash denigration of the pieces he had surely worked so hard to produce. Should I enter into some kind of dialogue? Was he expecting I would contact him? Should I make a peace offering by mentioning how much I really loved his Phobias series? Tell me, Al Gore, father and founder of the interwebs, what should I do?

Well, Al Gore didn't answer me, so I gave into my natural instinct, which is to do nothing. I accepted the request (why not?) and sent no message, as chances are the successful Mararian either (a.) didn't read my post; (b.) didn't care; or (b2) didn't care and then requested my friendship as his special way of letting me know that he didn't care.

In conclusion, the internet is a spatially unique place. Even a blog as small and insignificant as this one can still be found by just about anyone, which is a funny thing to think about when I'm writing, though I guess an important thing to keep in mind. One could use the ol', "If you don't have anything nice to say..." adage, but I think I'll lean more toward being careful that when I bash something, I better have my story straight (see: Avatar).

As for morals, I think I'll go with one of my favorite ones ever, courtesy of our good friends Calvin and Hobbes...

Calvin: Well, Hobbes, I guess there’s a moral to all this.
Hobbes: What’s that?
Calvin: Snow goons are bad news.
Hobbes: That lesson certainly ought to be inapplicable elsewhere in life.
Calvin: I like maxims that don’t encourage behavior modification.

Back in the next couple days with the first installment of a 10 part series that I'm fairly excited about.