Me? An Author?

What is an Author?, Foucault asks. It is not with pretentious intent that I write that I fail to understand, in light of what we are reading, why I must sit and blog about this if I somehwat die the moment I press the ‘publish’ button. Although I have not yet been accepted as an author my writing constitues my work. It has some sort of functionality as we have seen in the case of our very own JJ Hurvich who was recently contacted by a film-maker she happened to write about on a blog. But in terms of being graded for the work we present here, why does it matter that I will be graded for this if this text becomes an entity of it’s own independant of me. Before I continue I must make the distinction between writing a response paper that Jason will grade and give back to me, and a blog post which I am formally publishing on the internet for people to read and respond to. My intended meaning is being graded within this formal infrastructure but how can one grade something if I am ‘dead’?

By writing this I intend to question my role as an author within the blogosphere but the tone I use here may be interpreted otherwise. So if “…the intended meaning conflicts with the evidence of the poem itself, we cannot allow him to make the poem mean what he wants it to mean, just by fiat”. The blogosphere is a medum free of the constraints of formal academia which would lead me to believe that it is then a more poetic response paper and the quote applies.

I was really frustrated and had to write this after WordPress ate one of my posts and pushed me to the edge of my wits.

XoXo waylon


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