A quick scan through the archives here will give you a ton of answers to questions no one asks.
- What’s the most annoying part about Egypt? Answered.
- How do you run a difficult life experiment? Answered.
- Why should teachers be poor? Answered.
These questions, like most of the questions I answer here, no one ever asks me.
The posts I write responding to questions people actually ask – like about Korea or Saudi or even just how to ask better questions – get traffic. A huge percentage of the visitors on Marshallogue come as a result of just a handful of these kinds of posts. The other 1,000+ posts, most of them representing answers to questions no one asks, just sit there with no one reading.
Even this post, no one asked me to write it. No one asked me but me.
And that’s why this is Marshallogue. It’s the internal conversation I have with myself, answering the questions no one asks but that I want to answer. It’s an outlet for me to think in public and come back to it in the future if I want.
And the longer I do this, the more I realize how important it is for me. I’m always asking these questions, but if no one asks for the answers, it’s easy for them to just float away in my mind. This way, with Marshallogue, I can get them out there.
Maybe every once in a while someone else will even see one of the answers and relate. Sometimes, we hit on these questions together, questions no one asks anyone else but that fascinate us internally. But even if we don’t relate, I still write my answers.
And it makes me wonder, Does anyone else feel like this? Does anyone else want to try answering them? Does anyone else want to at least explore the questions?
It makes me think maybe we do. It makes me think maybe the way to get to know a friend is to ask a question he asks himself all the time but that no one else ever asks him.
That’s why I answer questions no one asks. I want these questions to feel concrete so I can handle them and think further. And I want them to feel legitimate so maybe someone else will answer their own.
