2003-06-29 - 1:30 a.m.

Why was The X-Files so great? I mean, there was comedy, there was drama, there was romance, and the tension surrounding all three, and there was the arc. Mulder searching for his sister--stupid. Mulder searching for aliens--stupid. He was searching for the truth--that�s what the show was ultimately about.

And he was doing it the right way--the way where you remain honest and good, but where you know when to compromise yourself when need be.

Did he ever find the truth?

No.

That's what's great about the show. As determined and resourceful as Mulder was, all of his searching for the answer resulted in nothing, save for more and more questions.

I mean, it killed him. It became him. He could have had his pick of wives, he could have had a satisfying career, could have coached Pop Warner baseball, could have bought a house, could have voted every four years.

Obviously, I'm drawing an unfair parallel between myself and Agent Mulder. He's dashing and courageous and uncompromiseable. I'm a redheaded curmudgeon who likes to listen to music. He's a fictitious character. I'm an actual person who had better obey the laws of society and physics and time, or else.

But when I sit down and write an eleven thousand word essay on myself, I'm like Mulder. I want the truth--in my case, I want the answer.

I know I'll never find it. It only matters if I stray. And it matters so much that I knock myself for even minor infractions.

And then I doubt myself for not just giving in and being all cool and shit. I could actually do it if I tried, but it's a lie I know I can't live with. I don't dislike anyone who can pull it off naturally--they're just doing what they need to do and have their own silent problems too.

So there's your answer. I don't like to romanticize myself (disagree if you will), but that's why I write what I write--I'm looking for an answer I know I'll never find. At the same time, I don't seek much outside help, because even though I know I'll never find the answer, I have hope that I will (if that makes sense). So I have to do it on my terms, at my own speed--my own way, as long as I try and every day.

Like Mulder, I�m almost glad that I chose an impossible task to make my life�s work. There�s hope, of course. But there�s also a proven excuse for squandering potential. And the romantic aspect of scraping fingernails, trying to wear down that wall a little more, for the next guy who will take my place. But the best part, I think, is that there�s no tangible goal. I mean, if I won, if I succeeded, if I discovered the answer, I�d be a god. Anyway--it�s not like my goal is to hit 200 home runs. Or to climb Mt. Everest. Or to drink a case of Molson. Or to become President.

Those are all noble and lofty aspirations, but whadda ya do afterwards? Celebrate? Hope someone else doesn�t do the same thing you did shortly after you did it? Buy eggs? Dress yourself in the morning?

And to what question does the answer correspond?

If you knew, you wouldn't ask.