People often tell me I'm very good at writing about nothing. I appreciate the compliment, but I'd also like to get a little recognition for talking about nothing, too.

Conversation is quite possibly the greatest of human luxuries. It's curious, though, how much of what appears to be conversation really isn't. Most of what goes on in discussions is mutual presentation. Sometimes it's very clever and great laughs are had by all. But that doesn't mean there's any actual conversing going on.

Generally speaking, people are usually just waiting for their turn to be the colour commentator, or to one-up the storyteller as soon as the tale ends. Other times, the old standby phrases such as, "I hear ya," or "Tell me about it," or "No kidding, eh?" are cranked out to make the speaker feel like they're really being listened to.

It's actually quite an art form to be able to have what appear to be meaningful conversations without really hearing much of anything that anybody ever says to you. Politicians do it all the time. (As an aside, sometimes I think it's almost inevitable that I will eventually become a politician, since we usually become what we fear most. If it does happen, and it leads me to a stint as a professional guest panelist, it will have been worth it, though.)

Considering my little aside there, it occurs to me that another aspect of so-called conversation, the tangent, deserves a little aside of its own in this discussion. Ah, yes, the tangent: pricelessly demonstrated by that moment in high school when you're sitting at the dinner table recounting something that you think is hilarious and yet profound, and then you go, "Uh - where was I going with this?" and your mom says, "Why are your eyes so red?" That's an awkward one, eh?

I used to have a very official-looking card in my wallet that stated 'License to Aimlessly Meander.' In the Pet Peeves category, I had listed 'Fuck Ups, Fuck Arounds, and Useless Conversation.' I'm still firm on the first two things, but I was a young man then and I hadn't yet learned the value of useless conversation. What, you say? You mean this column isn't a put-down of poor communication skills? Why, no, not at all.

You see, the wonderful thing about luxury is its attention to nuances, subtle details, and fine, elegant touches, so of course the blissful, luxurious art of linguistic interplay is not just about a straight-up tête-à-tête. In fact, I don't think you even need another person to get into frank discussion. Hell, right now, I'm sitting here all alone talking to myself, and I'm not feeling at all like no one is listening.

Really, with the way things are going in the world, with technology and all, even the conversations that we think we're having through e-mail and text messaging are actually nothing more than zeroes and ones. It's kind of freaky, but where this world is headed, there's really no such thing as conversation at all, so you may as well just enjoy the alternatives.

You wanna argue the point? Hey, I hear ya.

John Scoles is president and janitor of the Times Change(d) High & Lonesome Club.