I was thinking of how why Typepad's disclosure of my name bothered me so much. I never assumed I would be shielded from the consequences of any libelous speech. And I always treated the blog as a public forum--there is nothing in my blog which I would not share with a stranger at a party. (I view the readers of the blog--a couple dozen a day--the way I would view the people at a party where I knew most but not all of the guests.)
I think there were two real reasons--the first is simply, typepad didn't do what they said they were going to do; the second is that I don't consider my posts to be writing. I'm thinking of what Truman Capote said about Kerouac: that's not writing, that's typing. For me, blogging is typing. (Although not completely, "bothered" in the first line of this post had been "angered.") I think Capote may have been wrong about Kerouac; there seems to be some evidence that Kerouac marinated those "spontaneous" sentences for a considerable time before committing them to paper.
For me, revision is not a necessary evil, some uber-proofreading, but the essential part of writing. The tightening of sentences, the chiropracty of structure, the addition of animating detail, the pruning of banality--these are the essence of the thing. And my name on a piece of writing signifies that I have at least attempted to do those things. When my name was affixed to things I'd dashed off, friends and fellow searchers (literally, non-friends found posts through search engines), I felt embarassed.