I am of the opinion that blogging should come with a health warning. There is no doubt in my frazzled and tiny mind that blogging can make one go mad.
Think about it.
Throughout history, apart from hairs growing in the palm of the hand and dribbling uncontrollably a sure sign of madness has always been, talking to oneself. And as we all know jabbering away to no-one in particular is a particular trait of the majority of bloggers, who gabble away with every post that they write and commit to the internet. A reaction to the secret knowledge that all bloggers have, but refuse to accept. The terrible truth...that Mr or Ms blogger will actually be the only one in the whole universe to read what they have just written.
So why do it in the first place?
The answer of course has to be, narcissism, arrogance and a very sad life BC (before computer). A life in most cases, certainly amongst male bloggers, spent in an attic room, reading er...unusual magazines. Oh yes, and wearing polyester.
Narcissism as we all know is a particular nasty form of disease suffered by those that find themselves unloved, except by their mothers. Its most recognised symptoms include a belief that you have something to say that the rest of the world (sounding familiar?) will find interesting, hence the existence of bloggers who write about their children or their pets, or indeed their mothers.
Another known fact about blogging and bloggers and an important factor in the rising occurrence of blogging madness, is that bloggers do not sleep. In fact, they cannot sleep. Their every hour, on the hour, spent rising from their bare mattresses to check for comments.
To sum up, a blogger's life is a short one. Only happy when pounding the keyboard and only pounding the keyboard because of a drug-like dependency on that comment arriving. Which of course, it never does.
So my friends, beware the urge to blog and for your own sake consider the options carefully.
There's a lot to be said for Smoking and Drinking.
| Ted de Stratford. |
0 comments:
Post a Comment