Introductions
Alright, perhaps a high-twee mission statement with an extensive pre-ramble wasn’t the most astute PR decision I could have made, though in a few years, when Philomathy.org rules the Internet and cyber historians clamour to write its biography, its aggressive salutation will be vindicated and lauded. Luckily, I have between now and then to remove the actual first post where I was still fooling around with themes and emphasis colours.
Welcome, readers! At the time of this writing, you don’t exist yet. That’s fair: at its peak, my first (collaborative) website project was getting about two hundred unique hits per day, and nonetheless things were allowed to slide into dereliction[1]—I suspect I won’t have a web-comic this time around to entice readers for whom my tedious prose and occasional verse are insufficient to foster loyalty and fanaticism. Part of the reason I’ve been averse to resuming a regular web presence is my worry that I’ll flake out again and disappoint a strangely large and expectant number of people. I’ve also been grumbly about the (self-perceived) association of web logs with exhibitionism since the rise of LiveJournal, let alone FaceBook, and this gross oversimplification has stunted my regrowth appropriately.[2] I remain broadly impatient to follow the affairs of my friends using a broadcast model and expect nothing less than your impatience for the same in me; an open diary would sustain neither of our attentions, and so this website will not be one. I’m eager to provide value, insight, or at least pleasure for the honour of your time and consideration (though you may be even now in the throes of procrastination and I am penning oblique contributions the eventual dissolution of your academic or commercial career), so while my publications may incorporate anecdotal information, I promise to vigilantly maintain their use as a means to an end.
What end, then? I first conceived (and secured) philomathy.org with plans of having a space to share my love of learning and knowledge with patient friends and likeminded strangers. When I discover a fresh bit of information—or more importantly, a fresh and promising avenue of information—the pleasure it gives me is instantly diminished if I find I must inefficiently enjoy it alone. I’ve also systematised many of my learning habits in ways that I think people interested in things and stuff might make use of or build upon; rather than rehearsing these strategies irritatingly and apropos of very little to a room full of recipients with varying interest in things and stuff, I plan to talk about them here. Then, if you find you already know what I’m gushing about and/or don’t care, you can depart with perfect discretion and not trouble yourself with my shattered feelings and self-esteem.
Footnotes! There will be footnotes. I’ve discovered that WordPress is especially good at implementing footnotes copied directly from Microsoft Word, and the digressional freedom this gives me is unmatched by even the noble parenthesis (which is self-consciously obtrusive by comparison, at least when not used in moderation, succinctness, or at the termination of an otherwise complete sentence). I promise that my footnotes will always be of an entirely ancillary nature to the body of my posts, so don’t trouble yourself for a moment to follow them.[3]
The topics I expect to write on largely concern self-education, the philosophies of information, learning, and knowledge I encounter, cerebral things which are like to give joy to more people than just myself, language and words (as you’ve already seen), resources I discover and possibly produce, and maybe the odd poem if I get really self-indulgent. There is a beautiful, friendly, silly dog, as well as four inquisitive and photogenic cats, in my family home. I will never post pictures of them weekly.
[1] … he wrote from behind the veil of his passive voice, exculpating himself neatly.
[2] Also, I’ve since softened on even that abhorrence of exhibitionism with my occasional dips into the domains of previous co-conspirator and developing idols—it has been made clear to me that where there is intelligence and wit, the most egregious platitudes of blogger culture are avoidable and my voyeurism is, among other things, instructive and fun.
[3] Would that marginal glosses were so easily invoked. I studied The Rime of the Ancient Mariner nearly ad nauseam as an undergraduate and encountered a paper wholly devoted to the significance of marginal glosses, both in the poem and in general. Even in the midst of my fourth-year frazzle, the paper grew dear to me by dint of itself using marginal glosses to elegant, instructive effect. My approach to academic writing has been gratefully steered by Lipking’s demonstrative whimsy and willingness to buck arbitrary trends in publication convention—please read it if you care. More to the point at hand, that article first led me to think about the subtle, unconscious rhetorical distinctions between using the different tools of digression: the footnote, the em-dash, the parentheses, and occasionally the semicolon. Consequently, I now worry whether my varying use of them achieves my intended effect, or if it just seems inconsistent and amateurish.
Danny Fekete is studying education at the Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, appropriately. 
4 Responses so far
Geoff
March 7th, 2009
12:59 pm
You should have the footnotes as pop up text when you mouse-over the number! Woo!
Danny Fekete
March 7th, 2009
1:30 pm
I dunno, mang. Sommuh dem is massiv.
w1lp33
March 7th, 2009
5:23 pm
Your verbosity pleases me. Welcome back to the Internet. It hasn’t improved in your absense. Well, unless you consider 85% more LOLCats an improvement, which I of course would.
Ephraim
March 30th, 2009
11:57 pm
The footnotes… class. Lots of class.