It’s gotten to the point that I can’t bear to look at comment posts on the Web, most pointedly on YouTube but the problem is everywhere. The viciousness and childishness is intolerable. What kind of person has so much time and so much hate inside them to write the kind of stuff that’s up there? When I imagine the writer at their computer, in their parent’s basement apartment, surrounded by half-eaten Cheetos, making people feel smaller than them, I want to reach through the Internet Tubes and throttle them.

I remember the time-lapse video of a pregnant woman that was popular a few years back. My wife was pregnant with our first boy at the time, so I found it especially wondrous when I saw it. I thought about posting a comment of appreciation, and when I scrolled down I saw such vitriol directed personally at the man, his wife, their unborn (until the end) child, and pregnancy in general, that it nearly brought me to tears.

The experience, and similar ones, has made me very hesitant to post anything personal to the Web. I’ve used my name, stupidly, on a few posts that can be unearthed with a Google search. And I post photos and videos to Facebook and Vimeo, respectively (this may come back to haunt me and I consider removing it all daily). I’ve removed all photos from my Flickr account. And there is this blog. I’ve made attempts to remove most personal and identifying materials from it, but it is all probably still indexed somewhere out there.

I posted a resolution last week about being, simply, a nicer guy. This extends to my behavior on the Web. Although I don’t often feel the need to lash out at people in Internet forums, I believe I have to some extent. And I certainly do it in emails and Instant Messages. Here are situations where I have a chance to reread and edit what I’m putting out there, and I intend to. There’s no guarantee that someone might find something to take exception to in what I write, but I can only do my best. The anger I might feel in a burst at a given moment is generally in no way a reflection of my true feelings. There’s no need to immortalize it in text and inspire similar feelings in my friends or in strangers.

And when I come across a flame, I am going to quickly ignore it. I can only stop my contribution to that stuff, and the rest isn’t worth my time or energy.

OK, my first post in, like, forever is a self-indulgent blurb from my iPhone. It seems pretty easy so far, so if this works you may be hearing more from me.

Irwin died ‘doing what he loved’

So, Steve Irwin loved getting stabbed through the chest by stingrays? That guy was bound to kick it sooner or later with a passion like that!

But, seriously folks, it’s sad to see this character go. I always enjoyed seeing him on Leno, He seemed so naïve and sincere.