"I neither know nor think that I would know"^[1]

I knew that Socrates once said he knows he knows nothing. I knew it must have been a second hand account from Plato. But it turns out it is also a convenient paraphrasing of an often repeated idea, not something he actually said. Essentially, I too knew nothing.

A quote by someone once deemed the wisest man alive would be the perfect motto, one might think. In my failure to reference smarter words than mine I was right. The circularity of it and the transformation of success, from failure, is something that appeals to me. Socrates, in spite of his wiseness, made enemies, left no written works himself and infamously had to kill himself for his beliefs. His philosophy and teachings have survived millennia in spite of these setbacks. I would even argue that precisely because of them, his life and work were chronicled by his students and studied so intensely afterwards. Failure can be catalyst and inspiration, given proper circumstances. The teachings from failure can be harnessed by others for better outcomes.

There are many with nothing worth saying, writing blogs on the internet. They persist in their endeavor and, fortunately, most are ignored. There are some with great creative minds who dare not share their thoughts. And often they have no disciples chronicling their trials and failures. Throughout the years, I haven't started a blog because I am neither fond of writing into the void, nor do I have something truly meaningful to contribute. I have sat on the sidelines, criticizing the loudmouths for writing and the smart ones for not.

The one answer I consistently got, from both parties, was that, instead of commenting, I should start writing myself. I will be the first to admit my frustration when faced with this catch-22^[2]. You should practice what you preach, but what do you do when what you're preaching is: doing nothing when you have nothing new to add. Most everything that was worth saying was said and whatever I found worth sharing, was not mine to share.

Slowly, doing nothing became an increasingly untenable position. As the binary 20th birthday approached, I realized I was only 10 years away from the geekiest number. 10 years is also coincidentally the maximum registration term ICANN allows registrars to sell. After a year which gave everyone a new perspective on life, disparate thoughts clicked together in my mind. And the idea of writing something that fails to even register in significance on the internet, no longer seemed MAD.

Compared to the vastness of human knowledge, I know nothing and, for certain, I will not contribute to its advancement. So, like Socrates before me, I take it as a separate kind of wiseness, compared to those who think they know. But, unlike the suicidal philosopher, I do not intend to make enemies and I intend to write all I can down, so that my flaws and failures can be seen. A second hand narration of my words would be ripe for paraphrasing and cherry picking, for better or for worse.

My name is Mihai Cristea. Welcome to my website, which documents how little I've learned so far.