So who exactly am I?
In the words of Number 2: That would be telling.
In reality, my name is—
But that’s not the point of this post. This is not one of those whodunit posts (or I guess it would be a whoisit post?). Nor is it one of those gotta-get-this-anonymity-off-my-chest things. Sure, I’d like to tell you all, but as they say, now is neither the time nor place.
The point of this post is about living in anonymity on the internet.
Some people may see it as vain (not as in self-obsessed, as in useless. If I were self-obsessed, my picture would be everywhere, not nowhere!), while other people see it as a necessary step to take in protecting yourself on the internet.
I side more with those who feel it’s a necessary step. It’s not the internet that can’t be trusted, it’s people. And while I think most of you are nice, decent people in the real world, well, there are those people who just aren’t. I’m sure you can sympathize.
On the other hand, it does get annoying. A human without a face is like a clock without hands. Like a plant without leaves. Like a baseball without that red stitching. We relate with faces. We recognize faces. When we talk with people, we look at their face, not their feet, or their right shoulder. (Well, maybe some of you talk with people’s feet. Just sayin.)
I do it not only for internet safety, but for future-proofing myself against celebrity. Now don’t go telling me that you don’t have any dreams of becoming famous too! (Although if you did, I’d probably believe you.) I dream of someday having my work become famous. Not necessarily my person. Writers aren’t stalked/paparazzi’d/crushed in mobs like movie stars and music stars are. But there’s always a chance of something crazy happening. Also, it would be nice to be walking through the library, and to overhear someone talking about a book I’ve written without them turning and asking for autographs.
Autographs. *Shudder.* You know, sometimes I think about what I would do if I met a famous person. Would I ask for their autograph, ask them to sing a song, ask them to have a picture taken with me…? Or, would I pretend like they’re nobody special, and try to make their day by not trying to make mine? It’s the chance of a lifetime, but would you give it up to make their life a little less miserable?
Anyway, aside aside, that’s the reasons for my facelessness (although, it seems that all I need to show is my eyes and my left ear for me to become unfaceless!). That’s the reason for silhouettes and side-shots, banners across my face and words over my eyes. Those are the reasons for my eye-and-left-earlessness.