in me


I promised you a full, explicit and a very public explanation of my preference to log instant message conversations and emails whenever and wherever possible. Everyone else: This is my public disclaimer to you that I will record all of our conversations for the purposes of posterity.

My desire to do this stems, I guess, from my dad. Other than as (earlier) a raging, drunken figure full of violence, and (later) a broken, sick man slumped on the couch, I don’t know really him. I can tell you his name, age at death, date of birth, the names of (some of) his immediate family, and such facts as his unquenchable love of Guinness and dedication to donating blood no matter how he was, good or ill. I don’t know much more than this for sure because I never really spoke to him when I could avoid it. I don’t regret this! Dad wasn’t the most positive or pleasant figure in my life, and I absolutely don’t regret my alienation from him. He’s been in his grave for seven years, so it is a tad too late for reconciliations. I also consider my interest in him to be purely intellectual because we’re cut from the same cloth. Dad and I are both temperamental, sarcastic and proud men who prefer our own company above that of others. I’ve battled severe depression. I think that dad was depressed too.

So the logs? They started off as logs of convenience, to come and go whenever I moved to a new machine. When my marriage started to fall apart I made more of a serious effort to record my conversations for the sake of evidence, should it ever come to that. I know Mariah did/does indulge in the same bad habit. And after my brush with death in May last, I feel like I want to leave something behind for Caira and Garrett. At the very least I’ll get a good laugh from beyond the grave at the idea of mentally blinding and scarring them with the smutty content of my logs.

If I get shuffle off this mortal coil tomorrow, then a person I explicitly trust has the ability to access all of my online service. This person has instructions to:

  1. Post notification of said shuffling, where relevant, and then shut down my online accounts. While the concept of having my online “ghost” outlive me is fascinating, it really is too creepy to consider allowing.
  2. Provide immediate and non-destructive access to all of my online profiles, chats and emails to my wife and immediate family. Sorry guys, but no deleting the embarrassing bits.
  3. Keep the information “alive” until such time as it can be passed on to my kids. They can do whatever they want with it at that point. Hopefully I can mentally scar them whenever this happens.

Creepy? A bit, yeah. Being suicidal makes you give serious thought to stuff like this. In the meanwhile I get great amusement and insight from occasionally data mining my swearword count.

Five Years Slimmer

in me

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