Blogs. How stupid. When the phenomenon-to-be of blogging first entered the sphere of my consciousness half a decade ago, I had difficulty grasping it. I could not wrap my head around the idea that people, the general population no less, was under the impression that (1) their thoughts were worth sharing via a global forum and (2) other people, mostly strangers, would actually read such thoughts. This involves actively seeking out others' drivel and stupidity, as opposed to just randomly encountering it in line at the bank, on the roads, and more or less anywhere else humans might be found. Granted, it can be temporarily amusing (or quite exciting, when mental flatulence and vehicular maneuvers converge), but were people really out there searching for ways to further immerse themselves in the miasma of idiocy? It didn't seem plausible, and I kept trying to figure out if there was some kind of secret payoff nobody wanted to tell me about. Like maybe free animal crackers. Well, I don't like animal crackers (which are truly cookies), and I like mindless self-indulgence even less. And that was what blogging seemed to be: self-congratulatory, pointless bullshit, a further debasement of the great tool Al Gore intended the Internets to be (enjoy my savvy, bipartisan, outdated political jokes? Just wait).
Well, now I am older. A lot older, or at least it feels that way. And, as wise as I thought myself back then, I am now fairly certain I am even wiser. So, I decided to look into this blogging thing afresh . . .
First off, really original visual scheme, blogspot.com. That blue masthead with the reassuringly rounded white letters, it is all so familiar and friendly . . . because it looks just like Facebook. Brilliant. Already, my fears of mediocrity are allayed. Next, I come across the official explanation of blogging, which assures me that, while some private citizens (read: imbeciles) simply use Blogger to share their profound emo-ness with the world, some important people (read: empowered assholes) “command influential, worldwide audiences of thousands.” They are promising me Hitler-like powers. For free. Then, they tell me it's not only free, but easy. I don't have to learn HTML. No knowledge of website design required. A highly-trained monkey may be sent to my house to type for me. In other words, I am being offered supreme potency for minimal effort on my part. It's like those fantastic diet pills they sell on TV late at night, alongside amateur porn, that promise me I don't need to change my self-destructive, lazy habits to lose weight and achieve all my goals. Except Blogger isn't selling me this American Dream; they are giving it to me. Free.
So it is with a heavy heart and much self-resentment that I take up my imaginary pen and indulge in this digital form of hedonism. No promises . . .
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