Dearest reader (ie. my Mom and the 2 other people that visit this site),
I must admit to you that there are some days (much to my dismay) that I feel so Goddamned useless and depressed and self-destructive that I seek validation in good ol' Google. Call it blatant narcissism or sad solipsism but there are those times when I will incessantly Google myself. Hopefully (and I fear that I'm reaching here) you share this kooky character flaw??? If so, you might understand that I am the kind of guy who knows that tonight, say... you were to Google "famous bedwetters" or "sexiest sweaty pits" you'd be directed to my site - scottkeneally.com. (Currently, I'm Google's 3rd hit for "famous bedwetters" and the 5th for "sexiest sweaty pits"!!!!) While this certainly tickles my tits, I have recently discovered a darker side to my self-Googling habit.
Snarky Bloggers.
Say you were to Google "Scott Keneally" right now... the 6th hit would be from a popular gossip Gawker Media blog named Jezebel. Well, apparently the folks at Jezebel.com don't fancy my brand of self-deprecating humor. In fact, they fucking HATE it. Enough to blog about how pathetic I am, suggesting my Jane story about being a hypersenstive guy who cries at TV shows and commercials is "the kind of twaddle you find on a teenage MySpace blog."
What's funny about their take on me is that they've completely missed the boat in their assessment. They suggest I share my Jane Magazine confessional stories in a "whimsical fashion," asserting: "Look at him, doesn't he just scream whimsy. We picture him spending Sunday mornings on a rooftop in Williamsburg, reading Rimbaud in the original French before heading off to a poetry slam on the Lower East Side with his best friend Dave Eggers, before heading home to bash out 1,000 words on how crap he is for Jane, which will one day become the book about how he has issues with his Dad."
A few counterpoints of interest...
#1) I don't know a lick of French... nor do I possess even the slightest clue of how to pronounce Rimbaud. In fact, when I read Jezebel's post to a friend over the phone, I said "Rim-BAUD" phonetically, rather than the more socially acceptable "Rim-BO." Duh!
#2) I don't live in fucking Williamsburg, or NYC, nor do I hang out on rooftops as much as by firepits in the rolling hills and vineyards of Sonoma County wine country. And while I've met Dave Eggers on several unique occassions he is certainly not my best friend. Nor would he even recognize me. So... Ha!
#3) If you read anything of mine, it would be patently obvious that my issues are NOT with my Dad, but my MOM.
And lastly, despite your declaration that I'm a pathetic cinematic sap and girls (like you) would never want to sleep with me, I'm doing just fine. Thanks for looking out though!
In closing I'd like to say, have a great life Snarky Jezebel Blogger. Enjoy twaddling in other people's lives, making cursory assessments of their personalities and assumptions about what drives them, I'm sure that's just... OMG!!!... totally fulfilling. Oh, and by the way, with that whole "reading Rimbaud on a rooftop in the original French" angle, I hate to bust your bubble, but I think you inadvertantly made me look much, much cooler and savvier than I actually am.
So... XXOO!
posted by Scott Keneally @ 2:47 AM