Sunday 8 May 2011

From the Archives - Blogging about Blogging



  I do remember (some long time ago at the LD's temperamental rebirth) a discussion arose pertaining to whether or not writing is dying-at least in comparison to its supposed past popularity and these uppity newcomers, like visual media (I know this is not really a new thing, but still...). Whether or not this is true is a topic for another day, but there was one sentiment, rather unique I foggily recall, that stuck in my mind.

  One of the debaters argued that fanfiction was important to literature, and the widespread popularity of such a form of writing disproves the "writing is dying" idea. The idea that we could judge it from a practice that is not only unrecognised by mainstream of literature but actually looked down upon, "a waste of time" being one of the more mild comments,
is an odd one but hardly one that can be dismissed. And if fanfiction can be counted as a form of the entertainment media, at the very least, then there is another odd little phenomena of story telling that is very much in the mainstream-I'm sure we all know where I'm going with this.

  Weblogs give you the anonymity of a diary, yet gives the opportunity for your thoughts, anecdotes, observations, etc. to be shared with the world; and I seriously doubt anyone's diary has ever given them feedback or reactions of any kind. Due to the very consumerist nature of what the internet embodies (everything quick and easy) there exists very little in the way of pretenses for length or relevance or even basic grammar or spelling. This in itself can lead to pretty interesting ideas (all inference based) but it's when a person pours their mind or soul into it, revealing demons or skeletons, that it really proves it's worth. Poetry if you will-but not quite.

  Perhaps the most poetic part of blogs is that they are so pointless. They exist only for the gratification of the writer and as such become redundant upon conception. Yet some minds can transform them and, as with any decent media, you get a product very much resembling the psychosis of the writer.

  So what more fitting tribute is there than writing a blog about a blog? A redundant act about a redundant act. No real start, direction, or conclusion, much like the eternity of lives that leave their digital trail of this great sprawling mess of the internet.
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A blog post from myself, originally posted somewhere else. It did not accrue anything in the way of attention, but I like it enough to post it again here. As you no doubt gather, I find the idea of an internet culture is fascinating. Socially, it has it's own norms and allows for more subcultures than any other social medium I can imagine. Behind it all lies the anonymity.

Blogging was probably best described internet celebrity (that term feels like it should be oxymoronic) Yahtzee when he was talking about Youtube. Everyone wants to get noticed and everyone thinks that their thoughts are worth more than the next man's. 'cept me of course. I know mine is worth more than whoever this unfortunate next man happens to be.

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