The Hidden Blog Entry
Welcome to the hidden blog entry. Basically, this is an entry that you can't see. This means that this entire entry is addressed to an audience of none. I suppose, though, that the author can be counted as the entire readership. The readership of one, if you will. Oh, and I know you will because you're me and I can read your thoughts because, well, they're mine.
Of course, a hidden blog entry is merely hidden and not invisible which means that there is the possibility of finding the entry. This means that there is not, in fact, an audience of one but an audience of n.
Still, one must consider the interest factor: few blog readers would take enough interest in this blog to try to search for a hidden entry, especially if the very existence of this blog entry is unknown. Thus, the readership is back to one and the author can safely argue that this particular blog entry is one which is only known to himself. This opens up a whole new realm of possiblities in terms of topics. There needs to be no concern about offending the sensibilities of the audience, neither does there need to be a concern about proper grammar, punctuation, or spelling basicaly this hole entree ken bee whutevver eye want it 2 be.
For instance, I can switch between first person singular and third person singular as I have been doing without worrying about the propriety of my decision. The author doesn't even have to worry he is using the word "propriety" correctly. Also, I can say that I despise Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" without stirring up the sensitivities of my emotionally vulnerable friend, Aaron Gysbers. Why? Because he can't be offended by what he can't see. This brings me to the question of my hidden thoughts. Are these thoughts less offensive because no one but myself can see them? After all, cancer is just as harmful when it remains a malignant growth hidden in your stomach as when it is quite obviously protruding from your mouth. Of course, the secret thought which asserts that Aaron's attachment to a smarmy Celine Dion song is rather pathetic is a fairly benign one. That is, it is benign until you see the way this six foot five math major starts weeping at the opening notes of the song. Of course, this is assuming that this entry will work; that it will actually be hidden. If this entry isn't hidden and its contents remain exposed for all to see then I will have to reconsider the whole entry and I would appear far less clever than I presently feel. We'll see what happens. Oh, and if you can see this, write the words "hound dog" in your comment.