Tuesday, December 14, 2010


You know what revelation has trickled its way to me ever since my return to the blogging world (and to my unabashed, compulsive reading of blogs by people I've never even met)?

Blogging is great.

Okay, that's a banal epiphany, right? But, really, blogging is great. For one, it empowers a written release for one who has much to say and nobody to tell it to. That sounds commiserable (and all too familiar), so here's a better reason: Blogging is great because it is a medium with abiding availability (to those with the prerequisite modem and connection) for those moments of especial inspiration. Admittedly, I use the word "inspiration" loosely here for it is dependant on what the author considers to be "inspiration" - a bean and cheese burrito, for example, may be, to someone somewhere, inspiring. And, sometimes it feels more satisfying to write in a blog (or to it?) then in a journal. Nevertheless, journaling is a sound, respectable habit (and, personally, necessary) unless you choose to kill two birds with one stone and bare all on your blog, unleashing all your white-hot wisps of thought and feeling beyond your sphere of control. But that just rings foolish to me.

Thirdly (or whichever numbered affirmation I am at), blogging is great because you can hone and display your writing skills in the process of creating posts. Yes, this is more of a personal reason given that I need all the help and practice I can get. Or, perhaps blogging is great because you can conceptually mold, create and propagate your own perception of who you are, such as the idea that you are a great savant or an ingenious cook. And, perhaps that's motivational to the writer; pressure to now conform to that elite status written in online stone, or maybe it's just a way to egg on one's ego. Indeed, otherwise you may just be providing humor for the grammarist in flaunting your flagrant lack of style (unawares, of course; I doubt one would enter the blogosphere with such an aspiration). The latter (humorous lack of style, that is) refers to me and mine, of course (yes, Lynn Truss, laugh on) and not you, unless you find that the shoe fits. Additionally, I fall even further into a special why-one-blogs category because blogging is great for one (uh hum) who is habitually home all day with expendable time outnumbering the decimals in π and nothing to do with said time but prepare a Young Women's lesson for Sunday (chp. 47 on "Environments"), study the informational art in the Old Testament student manual (did you know that month 9 in the circular Jewish calendar, or our December, is called Kislev?), watch complete BBC films on YouTube, organize the attic, eat salsa, etc. In a bizarre way, it helps me superficially mediate the gap between the chasm of idleness and productive satisfaction by granting me a feeling of value by writing nothing of value. Does that make sense? Me neither. But, I still feel a sense of blogger value having now filled this negative space and, donc, I shall continue on. Just not today; this is December 14th's second blogging attack.

Wow, all of a sudden the use of this medium sounds completely motivated by personal gratification; it's all about me, me and me! I suppose blogging should be (and is, generally) great for more altruistic reasons such as its potential (and thus the writer's responsibility) to better and inspire the readership. Or, at least, to make them laugh.

I have failed in all noted areas of benevolent blogging today. I'll try again soon.

By the way, I feel like I just wrote a "pro-blog" argument paper, though not grammatically conventional; I apologize to have scandalized the use of adverbs and parentheses in this one fatal blogging blow; adverbs alike now cry, "It was a run-by blogging!"

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