So, at the Wellcome Collection they have this new display about the notion of identity. I don't usually have to find an excuse to actually go to the Wellcome Collection (as long as "I'm expanding my mind... and they have tasty cake, shut up" counts as not being an excuse) but, in the most recent case, our university decided that it would be in our best interest to simply attend this display. In case we don't know what identity is, or something. In fact, the concept is questioned as soon as you step in, as you are assaulted by a huge maze of confusing corridors and the repetition of the statement "I am...", as well as "who am I?" - to which there's only one answer: "I'm Jean Valjean!"
Anyway, so I was extremely interested to find out there was a room about diaries. In fact, I spent quite a long time in this room, trying to crack the Peyps Code (which is much more interesting than the Da Vinci code), listening to Tony Benn's tapes, watching the idiots in the Big Brother diary room talking to the idiots who watch Big Brother, reading the diary of a small girl scout - no, really, it wasn't that interesting - and perusing the reams and reams of books they had chronicling people's drab, wretched lives. What a fun time I had.
But there was one thing missing. Well, two things. They didn't have any Adrian Mole books - come on, collection, can't you give an example of a fictional diary? Also, where do blogs feature? Couldn't they have had a screen, or a print-out, or even a mention? So to the wall plaque I went. Ah yes, there's the mention. Blogs don't count, apparently. They're on the internet so everyone can read them; therefore, they don't count as real diaries.
Humph. Yeah. Right. Okay, whatever. If I go back any time soon, I'm taking some print-outs (not a guarantee).
Anyway, this identity display may not have been in the safest of hands... even if they did deign to mention blogs, although they wouldn't show any. Identity they may be interested in... but sometimes they don't seem to know who they are themselves.