Most people who know me know that I think online "handles" are pretty silly. I much prefer something that identifies me than some cute name that creates an online persona. I've known people who go to more or less trouble to create pseudonyms with the excuse that they didn't want scrubbers to find their name and send them spam. Um...okay.
Still, I've made my peace with handles, as silly as I think they are.
What I could do without, though, is bloggers who refer to spouses or children with names derivate of their handles. You know, your blog name is "All Things Ken" and you refer to your spouse as "Mrs. All Things" or "Broken Stove" and you refer to your spouse as "Mrs. Stove" or in the above examples, if you have kids as "the junior Things" or "the stovelings" or some other such nonsense. I think one notable sports column that has the title of "Mail Bag" actually uses the title "Mrs. Bag," but perhaps I'm just remembering that wrong.
Okay, here's a tip for all the bloggers out there. If your personal life is such that you feel you want to share with a couple million Internet users what movie you saw last night or what coffee "Mrs. Crucnhycon Film Fan" bought at Trader Joe's last night, then you are not exactly protecting her privacy by not letting me know her name is _____________. This isn't cute or hip (in my opinion), it's just coy. It comes across as suggesting (in most cases wrongly) that your Internet persona is a big deal and like Cher, Bono, Prince, or whoever, that your handle is so well known that people tend to (and should) think of your persona as more important and more real (at least to you) than your actual identity. It also suggests that your spouse and/or family are not merely extensions of you (offensive in its own right) but extensions of your persona, people's whose function it is in life to play a guest starring role in the script of your life that you will never sell to Paramount.
And that's just sad...
Especially for Mrs. Getabloglife.
3 comments:
Ken,
I'm just a harmless alter ego designed to give my creator a humorous forum for his periodic, misanthropic rants. I'm cheaper than therapy.
Why do you hate me?
Why?
Insert picture of cute puppy looking forlornly through the bars of a cage here.
See now the real question is not why do I hate you, but why do you hate yourself so much you need to create this alternate identity. Say it with me..."I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me..."
Or maybe I just hate Mrs. Smokey and the Burnlings. (Hey weren't they a one hit wonder in the 80s?)
It's not "Mrs. Smokey," it's "Mrs. Burner." Propane Burner (she's Greek).
And the children are not "the Burnlings," they're the "EZ Bake Ovens."
Do your research, man.
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