Just a short thought inspired by a discussion with a friend. Isn’t it a paradox, that while none of the information provided on this page about me (I’ve just noticed an embarrassing typo there, by the way) is true, the whole of it, in some way at least, is true indeed.
I mean, that page does give you an impression of what kind of person I am, doesn’t it? And you could even say that it is more true than a dry set of correct and exact biographical data. With people, numbers only matter so much, I mean.
There’s a half-forgotten Polish writer called Marek Hłasko in whose short, mock-autobiographical story “I, Goofy the Dog” – a kind of self-description people like me can identify with – I read a sentence, which now escapes my memory, but it certainly was about how you can tell the whole truth when lying about all the details. Or so I (mis)remember it. And again, it’s not important if there really is such a sentence, if there really is such a short story, if there really is such a writer… what matters is that by telling you about it I am giving you a glimpse of myself. Or am I not?
Sorry for that blabbing. A bit pretentious I think. The regular broadcast of sarcasm and irrelevant trivia will resume shortly.