Blogs suck. Bloggers suck.
You want to know how much blogs suck? Billmon stopped blogging. Norbizness stopped blogging. The Editors stopped blogging. Even Sadly, No, started sucking (and NO, it was not when Tintin became a front pager you assholes). Gilliard DIED so he could stop blogging. Most of the bloggerhood has given up on their blogs. And I KEEP ON blogging.
Blogging sucks. What more evidence do you need? Blogging sucks. I will entertain opposing viewpoints in the comments, but fuck, isn’t that a big fucking hill to work up against?
Blogging sucks, especially when you allow comments. Interacting with fucking other people, and MANY OF WHICH DISAGREE with you. Fuck. Is there anything that sucks more? Shit, if you have to interact with other people, you might as well walk out into the REAL FUCKING WORLD.
People on the internet are aggravating, annoying, interesting, verbose, persistent, noisy, disagreeable, angry, talkative, full of misspellings, weird, twisted, sometimes drunk, know-it-alls, antagonistic, troll-y, interesting, intelligent, stupid, friendly, loving, sympathetic, considerate, inconsiderate, Cookie Queens, cat-haters, dog-haters, people-haters, music-haters, music lovers, animal lovers, and assholes.
Just like people in real life.
I find it hilarious when the print or viddy media gets all pearl-clutchy on all the various HORRIBLE HORRIBLE permutations of blogs and social media.
We all find these ways to reach out to other humans. Some of us do it through letters, some through art, some through sex; but we all connect. We all NEED to connect. Sometimes it happens on the Mojo Wire, you know? What’s the difference, unless you’re counting fluid exchange?
I met up with Zelmo tonight for some drinks. His time was limited, but we made the most of it; yeah we talked about love and life and politics and work and music; we talked much about Genesis and music and the bands we’ve seen. Yeah, I’ve seen them all and he has missed a lot and I apologize for the hurt I gave him when he realized he would never see Sonic Youth and I had seen them three times….
Zelmo and I go way way back. I met him when I was working for another firm, and was being stressed to produce designs for a project that had me on the edge, when he was hired I just started throwing plans at him saying Elevations! Sections! After we finished the crush, I bought him drinks and we discovered that we liked all the same music and almost everything else, and he became one of my best friends. Such a good friend that when I offered him a job from my independent practice, he refused, out of concern that it would damage our friendship. well, fuck how do you argue with that?
Anyway, I originally connected with Zelmo in the workplace. Connections happen without caring about media; in previous generations, pen pals connected. People who didn’t speak the same language connected. People connect. It’s how we do; if we didn’t do it, we wouldn’t be people, now would we?
Zelmo asked, any DEMANDED, that I blogpost after I got home. I had some other things to email out, so first things first, but this is how it comes out.
I come from a very stubborn family. My mother was usually pointed to as the most stubborn person, but really, we all have been, and are, stubborn motherfuckers. And so, this fucking blog has been around, in one form or another, for longer than I care to admit. Mainly because I published posts for an amazingly long time before anybody ever commented; I did it because I was fucking stubborn and I had some fucking things I wanted to say. Also, I like to write. And say fuck.
So I did. I wrote. I yelled. I screamed, I howled, I said things I wanted to. And, at some point, someone commented. I said fuck.
And I kept writing.
People come and go, and they participate, or they don’t; I start new blogs. Everything moves. People connect, whether it is in person or over the net. It’s the PEOPLE that count, not the method.
And I keep writing. My stubborn mother would approve I think. Some of you comment. Some don’t. You all count. I keep blogging….