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Thursday, October 14, 2004

Good Christing fuck. This whole blogging thing? Yeah, it's gone too far. Far too far.

Here's an exercise in sheer, pointless, masochistic headfucking for you. See that little button up in the right hand corner that says 'Next Blog'? Yeah, go click that. I'll wait. Go click that about twenty times and then come back.

Okay, what did you see? Puerile ramblings? Whiney adolescents? Blogs with names that might have seemed clever sometime in the way, way past before we all started watching Friends and throwing quips and one-liners at each other as part of our daily conversations? Yeah, I'll bet you did, and read a lot of stuff that sounds like the voiceover from an afterschool special. And lotsa bad spelling, right?

What scares me are the number of them that claim to be 'chronicling a normal life' or some similar asinine thing, and then, yeah, go right ahead and do just that. From posts about what they think about their new toothpaste to their lunchtime sandwich to the movie they watched while drifting off to sleep, you get an endless eyeful of the same shit that your own life is already filled with. Really, who's reading this stuff?

Other scary shit:

Blogs filled with links to home refinancing sites, survey sites that'll give you a free iPod/DVD player/PS2/laptop/yacht, cut-rate pharmecutical sites, dating sites, humor sites, shopping sites. Like spam, except you have to go find it for yourself.

Blogs started just so people could have conversations with each other. Like ICQ, MSNmessenger, Yahoo, etc., except that there's no real time communication and you have to keep hitting refresh to see if there's a response to your post. Also, it seems that blogs like this are posted to by people who're in school together, and see each other pretty much every damned day.

Things like this:

Am I just to be a clockwork turquoise?
That symbolizes heaven and that which is of the Spirit?
I certainly hope so.

Ah, the internet. Porn, penis enlargement & bad poetry.

Look, I know that blogs are supposed to be nothing more than online diaries for people drawn to that perverse thing of sharing intimate secrets with anyone who bothers to show up (*cough*cough*), but c'mon, guys. If we're going to be out here, putting our crap up for anyone to see, shouldn't we be putting up stuff that we might actually want people to see? Shouldn't our writing be fresh and interesting and tight? And properly spelled? And inclusive to anyone outside our immediate circle of friends? Fer Chrissakes, don't you guys proof your copy? DON'T YOU FUCKING CARE?

Right, all right. That's it. Never mind me. I'm done. I'll just spend my time with Cory & Warren & Drew and my circle of pals and just forget about finding anything new or interesting under the sun.

Also, all you underage virgin goth girls? Stop trying to sound like you've been getting laid since you were ten years old. It's obviously not true, and it's a little embarrasing for the rest of us to read. You don't go out drinking in graveyards with your little goth friends, you don't have a dangerous boyfriend with his own hearse and tattoo gun, and you've never gotten shut up in a coffin for hours on end. How do we know this? 'Cause you post to your fucking blog three times a day and you've got a list of friends fifty names long. People who spend that much time on the computer don't leave the house, and you have to leave the house go drinking in graveyards, get shut up in coffins and attract boyfriends to have sex with. So either learn to fake it better, or just go actually do something that the rest of us might want to read. Little goth boys, go find the little goth girls, a bottle of absinthe and get on with it.

And on that note, I'm off to make dinner for my girl, who should be home any time now. And you know what? I'm not going to tell you a damned thing about it.

Cheers.

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