A statement of intent

So this is Write Angry. That title may change. In fact, it almost certainly will. It may become a pun, using the word 'Write' in place of 'Right' somehow, though that is unlikely. The title is a statement of intent. I have an idea of what I'd like this blog to be but ideas grow or shift or die. When the intent changes, the title goes with it.

I say 'an idea', what I mean is 'two ideas'. I have the sensible, realistic idea which this introductory post aims to explain and I have the secret wishful idea where the blog is read by thousands, I become revered and respected and though I don't actually lead any revolutions, the heroes of successful - and peaceful - uprisings around the world cite me as inspiration.

Back in this world, I've kept a LiveJournal for eight years now and for five or six of those I updated frequently. There's a fair few posts I'm proud to have authored but there are also a great many more written because I was bored or because I hadn't updated in a while and felt I had to.

My little corner of LiveJournal is dying and that's sad for me to watch. Of the sixty-odd people whose journals I follow, only a handful still update and even fewer of them I care about reading. Even I update only once or twice a month these days. It's not so much that livejournal has gone out of fashion - though that's likely true as well - it's that livejournal served a purpose no longer needed by many of my friends there, and no longer needed by me.

Livejournal was an outlet when we felt stagnant. When we were heading nowhere, we headed there instead. It gave us a connection to other people in the same situation. At school they told us it didn't matter if we didn't know what we wanted to do in life. It would all work itself out. At college they were a little less optimistic and a little more disappointed in us for not having made our minds up yet. By the time we got to university it felt too late to be so directionless. I gained a BSc in Computing and still having no clear goals or ambitions, I started studying for a Master's degree. A couple of months into this course I hit my breaking point and dropped out, swearing off programming for life. It was so useful to have somewhere dozens of others wrote about how their grand plans hadn't worked out either.

We wrote about our failing lives and the fun we were having despite them. We filled the site with quizzes and memes, ideas for games and reviews of gigs. Whispered, friends-locked posts about secret crushes. Our favourite bands, our favourite films, our favourite lolcats. It was always personal, rarely political. We weren't outwardly disaffected or disinterested, we saved all that for the real world. I know this isn't true for everyone. It may not even be true for anyone else, but that's one of the things that LiveJournal was to me.

I don't feel the need to share that now. No, my life isn't sorted and I still want people to hear what I have to say but I think now I'd rather say things that might interest them, rather than writing about myself and expecting them to be interested anyway. I don't want a journal anymore, I want a voice.

There are subjects I have strong opinions on and want to write passionately about. There are subjects I consider important but have no strong opinion, and I hope debating them with myself (and hopefully with readers, eventually) will help foster passion. I want to write interesting pieces about the Separation of Church and State, about the British Monarchy, about Ethics, Sexuality, Art and Equality. I want to write detailed articles about science and pretend I know what I'm talking about. I want to write damning polemic against oppresive regimes and pretend I'm making a difference. I want to write often, I want to write well and I want to write angry.