Being out of commission is no fun, I’ll tell ya. Especially when you’re missing a paycheck. I know, lots of people would love a day off from work, and so would I, but if I’m gonna take a vacation, I wanna feel like I’m on vacation, and not somewhere between the picture of health and death’s door.

While I was uncomfortably splayed on my back either in bed or dully viewing yet another DVD in a foggy haze, DeafBlogLand decided January wasn’t just the dullest month of the year, but that deaf bloggers everywhere had a duty to make it more exciting. The first indication of that was the announcement of next month’s conference at Gallaudet.

You know, I’ve had my identity revealed a few times previously, but it wasn’t til now that I felt like a demi-vierge, a young, nubile gay youth still solidly in the closet: I was outed for good. The announcement wasn’t with the neon signage and bright lights that probably accompanied others (a good number of people were probably still in the dark about Curious Eyes, for example), but the closet door is open now, even if I’m going to stay inside for a while longer, thank you.

Yes, I’m going to DC. Yes, I plan to enjoy myself, and yes, I hope to meet a good number of you if at all possible (at this point, I’m hoping to attend DPHH if I can. If there’s any other social opportunities, feel free to let me know. I can’t guarantee I’ll make an ass of myself by the end of the evening, but at least I can put in some face time). I’m not sure if I’ll have anything illuminating or relevant to say, but I’ll do my best. I’m on a rather interesting panel, and I’m really looking forward to what my co-panelists have to say. I’ve met Ryan, but not Elisa or Bobby, so at the very least I’ll be able to put names to faces.

On the heels of this announcement, starting over at Chris Leon’s Roar (then at DeafDC), came a public hullaboo over Ridor’s lack of participation in the conference (including remarks that he was throwing a hissy fit– you be the judge), which was followed in turn by a more formal explanation on his blog, complete with a personal, highly opinionated assessment of the attending bloggers (although I of course am gratified that he considers me a blogger. *grin*). The initial outburst focused both on Ridor and the conference, hosted by Jill Bradbury. A few bloggers/vloggers commented on Bradbury and the conference, from ReunifyGally’s defense of Bradbury to Jared Evans’ vlog interview. This then led to the latest match between Ridor and a member of the community. In the past it’s been Ridor v. Amy Kurz, then Ridor v. the Kokonut Pundit, then Ridor v. “put your name here, you’ll fit the bill.” (So far he hasn’t tagged me and said, “You’re it,” though it could happen. Never know…)

Jamie Berke, of About.com fame and mistress of her own blog, Berke Outspoken, decided it was her turn to do battle, with the first round focusing on Ridor’s appeal for donations. It’s here that the cheap theatrics started; Berke’s post overall was a good one, and the latter two-thirds was actually supportive of and sympathetic to Ridor (whose initial response in comment #6 set the tone for the remainder– I still can’t decide if it was a remarkably poor response or a poor attempt at self-deprecation. Again, you be the judge). In the ensuing fallout (My body was still in rebellion and I couldn’t eat when I stumbled onto all this, but the popcorn sure was beckoning!), Berke apparently took umbrage and posted again, with an interesting title. You may agree with her or not, but again we were treated to a theatrical performance over a lazy January weekend.

It was hard to tell who was winning in this latest pairing, but Berke proclaimed (rather prematurely) that that was all she was going to say, and it was finished as far as she was concerned. Apparently work on Monday was a wee bit too dull for her, because she then declared the “Great Deaf Blogger War” (another fantastic title! Jamie, you should send your resume to some publishing companies. You have a flair for labels and titles, that’s for sure) , which provided even more entertainment for those of us who were loath to declare the weekend (and the fun) over.

At this point, it seems the hue and cry has died down. But before I continue, I’ve just got to thank you guys– how’d you know I was sick? How’d you ever conspire behind my back, and provide such fabulous entertainment for me in my (many) moments of pain? Hell, come to think of it, you provided fodder for the rumor mill all weekend long, and kept us all from despairing the state of DeafBlogLand in the wake of the protests. What redeeming issue could we all rally around? When we run out of serious issues (and lord knows there’s quite a few we face), at least we have DeafDirt (apologies to DeafRead!)!

In the vacuum rushed in commentators from all over. Tayler Mayer over at Y3 posted his thoughts. I agree with Tayler– I don’t plan to publicly take sides, but everyone involved has a great deal of talent, and even with my best blog post, I couldn’t attract half the audience they can. Others weren’t as cavalier in their opinions; Mishka Zena, for example, decried the apparent lack of civility. Moi at Random Thoughts and Musings also chimes in with an opinion on comity, or the apparent lack of it. Finally, Dan McClintock posted what I think is one of the best cartoons I’ve seen in a while, and sums up the state of DeafBlogLand these days.

I’m finally healthy tonight, just as the furor has (seemingly!) died down. Personally, I think the fracas exposed people for who they are, to a degree. I think it also showed that we’re human, above all else. Unlike Elizabeth, I think this isn’t too serious (although the apparent picking on the San Francisco Bay Area is definitely representative of a trend we need to avoid- it’s one thing for two people to knowingly and willingly get down in the dirt, and karma is a concept everyone should learn about- but attacking a collective community without more than circumstantial and uneven evidence is unacceptable), and we’ll be ready for the next challenge. After all, despite the theater, we’re deaf. We’ve faced discrimination, whether subtle or blatant. We’re all, each and every one, ambassadors of deafness. We’ve achieved (or botched) our own measures of success in ways that hearing people have never had to experience. We’ve come through a hell of a lot, including a highly divisive protest. It’s 2007, and cheap theatrics or no, we’ll be ready for the next challenge.

In the meantime… popcorn, anyone?