The Unknown Man

About a decade ago, I created a space in which to discuss my evolving perspectives. A man, we'll call him 'G', discovered my online record and was a frequent spectator of it. He was good with words, had a dry sense of humor, and was a magnificent artist. I was predominantly right-brain oriented, and his was aligned to the left. He challenged me, without actually issuing a fatwa, to be as creative or more visionary than I had hitherto been. Initially, the results were crude, until I had become quite successful in developing an art of my own. However; I knew nothing of the man, and it bothered me.

He was a story teller, some long-winded, and others to the point. One couldn't detect a pattern, or chiasmus, in his string of words. They were all brilliant, as glossy as stories could be. His interests, as he had specifically listed, were across the board. A broad stroke on the spectrum. G was a software developer, as I am, and that's as much as I was granted to know. I realized that I knew an insignificant amount about him. His avatar gave nothing away, as it wasn't much of an exemplification of the man. I was bewildered at the fact that he had no online identity.

I was maturing, and emerging with my own set of beliefs. I was barely into college, and every theory I held was challenged. I didn't have a lot of time, or couldn't make time, to pry into a life other than my own. Ironically, I was majoring in systems security. The question of identity would linger for a long time. My own online identity consisted of games, emails, and some random comments in forums. Back then, my existence was small, but even I made mistakes. I was traceable, so why not him? As James Joyce once stated, "Mistakes are the portals of discovery."

I grew frustrated, not at G, but at myself. If I couldn't unmask him, then no one could. I did the only reasonable thing I could do, I waited. A few years later, thanks to the watchful eyes of a Google bot, I found another blog that he had authored. Strangely enough, it was a diary about frequenting restaurants with his pals. There were photos, but none of him. Names were mentioned, but his wasn't. I had a confirmed location, as these restaurants were native to a city on the East Coast. The proverbial noose was tightening.

It was clear that he had a keen eye over his own affairs. While his universe was expanding, he had made sure that the source was protected. G was a modest man, but a perfectionist, and I knew it. He had been a moderator on Wikipedia, but using the same disguise as always. His IP address had become public knowledge, and only confirmed his location. Years would pass, with little to no new information being supplied. One day, he had changed his avatar. It was the same avatar, with added facial hair. I didn't think anything of it, but later realized it was an important distinguishment.

He had other friends, like myself. Some of them were personal friends. If he couldn't make a mistake, perhaps they could? Their lives, on the other hand, were an open book. I had crawled their social networking profiles, and came up with nothing. There were a few hundred friends of friends that fit the profile, but none of them worthy of his intellect. As the bots rushed in with more data months and months later, enticing as it was, the information led me astray. He grew more elusive, and I became more determined.

As I was narrowing the field, something struck me. The facial hair on one of the suspects seemed to match his magnificently crafted avatar. It was a personification! Further research indicated his occupation and extensive vocabulary harmonized. I had found him, and I confronted him! Days would pass... The anticipation grew, I knew he had no choice but to take a bow. The reply, as priceless as it was, came in the form of the immortal Heisenberg. When confronted with the evidence in Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, he replied, "You got me."