Broken Brain is not my real name. Real names are dull, and isn't the purpose of the internet really to give us a vehicle for giving ourselves ridiculous names? I am a writer by trade and training. Language is probably my first and deepest love. Our thoughts are, in the end, who we are. I don't know about you, but my thoughts mostly take the form of language (those things that are more . . . let us say sublingual . . . are best called urges rather than thoughts). I am language. My love of language is not just narcissism and self-exploration, though. Language is the story of all human interaction. The words we use are, in a way, the sum total of Humanity. There is, in language, the power to build and destroy more quickly, more effectively than our hands could ever accomplish. The world of the internet is a brave new one, wherein each of us can transmit our words far and wide, quickly and with little effort, and the power and flexibility of language is building upon itself more quickly than we could possibly have imagined 15 years ago. Of course, such rapid growth of a being (and language is an organic creature) cannot help but be cancerous. Nothing without price. This is my world.
I also write for several other blogs, under this name and others, as well as other non-blog websites and the occasional print publication (how retro). As Broken Brain, I am half of the douchebags who write These Go To Eleven, and I lead the Elegant Doom think tank. Contact me through the.brain.is.broken at gmail. I check it at least once a month.
