Why Blog?
Barry over at the Inn of the Last Home asks himself the question all bloggers ask themselves at some time or another. Why do I do this?
I’m struggling to define my blogging existence, and this will help.
I hope it does Barry. I really do. I have noticed this question popping up in a few other blog posts that I stumbled upon recently. Maybe it is something in the cyberwater.
I see blogging kind of like the human equivalent of howling at the moon. Sometimes I wonder if it is a cry for help or just an opportunity to make some noise. For reasons that I cannot explain when I think of blogging I always think of Horton hearing a Who.
God knows there are millions and millions and millions of folks out there doing it. I never try to guess at what each of their motiviations are. I just read what they write and ponder what they say. To almost all of them I guess I am just an IP address that shows up on a counter of some kind and then disappears. More times than not I never comment. That does not mean that I did not enjoy my visit to their site. It just means that I didn’t have anything to say. Or I figure that what I would say would just piss ‘em off and it is rude to piss a guy or gal off while you are visiting their blog. Even though I have done it a time or two.
If you visit as many blogs as I visit every day you start to feel a kind of kinship with the authors. You start to realize that there is nobody that you are going to agree with every day on every subject.
But I can enjoy a morning in New York most anytime I want to and then with a single click check out how things are going in the Chicago area. Bouncing around on blogs is a great way to see the country. You might even find an enigma wrapped in a shroud tied to a donkey behind an iron curtain up in Bucks County Pennsylvania.
It sure beats driving for hours simply to view the worlds largest ball of string.
Why do I blog? Because Smijer generously made me an offer and I took him up on it before I realized that I did not have a damn thing to say that anybody wanted to hear. But it turns out that it is pretty good therapy at times.
I guess I will howl at the moon as long as there is a moon to howl at.
YOPP!