The Ether
What makes blogging such so interesting? And why, of all things, did we pick such a lazy word to describe it? I mean, really, "blog?" It's like we're not trying to be creative any longer. This ranks up with "chillax" and "phat" as Words That Seem Better Than They Actually Are.
Regardless, we blog. You blog. Everyone blogs. It's blogdamonium!
Oddly, when I mentioned my blog to any of the number of people that I know (number greater than 2, less than infinity), they all look at me as though I just sneezed so violently that my frontal lobe was hanging precipitously from my nostril. In so much, they wanted to say something, they just didn't know what.
"You don't know what a blog is, do you?" I would ask them, and they would nod, embarassed that I could know something that they didn't.
"It's like an online diary," I would tell them, and they would nod once again, now thinking me crazy to spend time writing on the internet. Sometimes they would follow up with a question.
"So, you have your own website?"
"Kinda," I would respond, "But instead of pictures of half-naked celebrities, or diatribes about the decline of fine German craftsmanship, I just post random messages every single day. Plus, mine has links to other websites and fun stuff like that."
This is where they would get silent, and then I would explain how they could look up the webpage and see what I've been writing. Some of them have commented on this page. Two of them have been inspired to start their own blogs because of me. One no longer speaks to me, occasionally communicating through semaphore, but that's a whole other update.
Still, I find this to be a fairly entertaining medium, except that I am often at a loss as to what I was going to write about; I had an idea, I'm sure, some hours previous, but by the time I sit down any thoughts that I may or may not have had on politics, religion, Malthusian micro-economics, slave-trade, or anything worthwhile have already dissipated into the ether.
I am now reminded of that old Bugs Bunny Cartoon where, after a flood washes his bed into a spooky castle whereupon he is chased by a mad scientist and his creation only to eventually inhale the fumes of ethel alcohol, he falls asleep.
"Nighty night, rabbit."
Wotta pointless, yet nicely crafted segue, with wonderfully sharp relation to the title of this post!
Or, conversely, not.
Regardless, we blog. You blog. Everyone blogs. It's blogdamonium!
Oddly, when I mentioned my blog to any of the number of people that I know (number greater than 2, less than infinity), they all look at me as though I just sneezed so violently that my frontal lobe was hanging precipitously from my nostril. In so much, they wanted to say something, they just didn't know what.
"You don't know what a blog is, do you?" I would ask them, and they would nod, embarassed that I could know something that they didn't.
"It's like an online diary," I would tell them, and they would nod once again, now thinking me crazy to spend time writing on the internet. Sometimes they would follow up with a question.
"So, you have your own website?"
"Kinda," I would respond, "But instead of pictures of half-naked celebrities, or diatribes about the decline of fine German craftsmanship, I just post random messages every single day. Plus, mine has links to other websites and fun stuff like that."
This is where they would get silent, and then I would explain how they could look up the webpage and see what I've been writing. Some of them have commented on this page. Two of them have been inspired to start their own blogs because of me. One no longer speaks to me, occasionally communicating through semaphore, but that's a whole other update.
Still, I find this to be a fairly entertaining medium, except that I am often at a loss as to what I was going to write about; I had an idea, I'm sure, some hours previous, but by the time I sit down any thoughts that I may or may not have had on politics, religion, Malthusian micro-economics, slave-trade, or anything worthwhile have already dissipated into the ether.
I am now reminded of that old Bugs Bunny Cartoon where, after a flood washes his bed into a spooky castle whereupon he is chased by a mad scientist and his creation only to eventually inhale the fumes of ethel alcohol, he falls asleep.
"Nighty night, rabbit."
Wotta pointless, yet nicely crafted segue, with wonderfully sharp relation to the title of this post!
Or, conversely, not.
you know nothing i do not! nothing! NOTHING!
your blogging frightens me. i am but a simple caveman. quit this blogdamonium before someone gets hurt.
Posted by
Anonymous |
10:50 p.m.
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