I would like to say, with Elvis Costello, my aim is true. But that won’t do. (“Sometimes I wish that I could stop you from talking/when I hear the silly things that you say.”)
My aim here is to write small essays, trials. I intend for most of them to be no larger than a thought, to be no longer than a mood. Even if my tone seems sure, my footing is not, and I know it. As Montaigne confesses:
If my mind could gain a firm footing, I would not make essays, I would make decisions; but it is always in apprenticeship and on trial.
Maybe another way of puting my aim is to borrow Plato’s notion of serious play. But I don’t know; maybe not. Take the blog, anyway, for what it is: a momentary natural history of my thinking.