What is this?

It is what it is. I began writing a blog back in 2000 but life tackled me away from the keyboard after a couple of years. A partner who didn't understand why I spent so much time hunched over in the dark, typing to nobody in particular, and an increasingly hectic work and union schedule conspired to draw me away from the glow of virtual community and into the harsher glow of "reality". Prior to that, I had started sending a regular email to most people I knew named "yinyangman's cosmos", wherein I brought together links to interesting, under-reported news stories punctuated by my opinions on them. Some of the people I sent them to asked to be taken off the list, many probably just deleted or ignored them but quite a few people responded, discussed and forwarded the email off to other friends. I got the idea that this new "internet" thing could be what we needed to bypass mainstream news filters and choose our own agendas as a society. 12 years later, it appears to be picking up steam. Back then, however, there was a blanket dismissal of this new form of communication, especially by the old guard but also by most media consumers. My blog was on livejournal. It was a brief experiment and less satisfying than the emails. None the less, it was therapeutic to have an outlet. I regret putting away the keyboard for so long.  I don't recall exactly how I came up with yinyangman as a working moniker but I had just recently read The Tao Of Jung and On Having No Head and I've always liked the idea that within everything exists the seed of it's opposing force. Two of my all time favourites are Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and the Tao of Pooh so there's obviously something about Zen that appeals to me. Calling my online identity yinyangman creates a problem because it is misconstrued as being the whole of my identity. Anyhow, I feel like I'm stuck with it now. It would be disloyal to change. My relationship with this yinyangman guy is the longest I've had outside of family. The name does make me cringe at times. Too bad; it's part of who I am.

So... Who am I?

My other name is Danny. You'll have to tell me the rest. Everyone is the eye of their own personal storm so it's probably easier for others to decide according to their observations from afar. I think I'm pretty sane, normal and balanced but then I'm sure Charles Manson doesn't wake up in the morning and think, "Woo! I'm batshit!"