On with the substance!
It would probably be really cool to find out just what's driven all those masses of people out there to start a blog. OK, it would probably be about as much fun as hearing what recurring thought drove someone into therapy (Cindy Crawford's mole is actually a parasite, and it's coming for me next), or maybe hearing them take a stab at describing a dream they once had.*
Still, I think there's probably a great idea or perhaps desperation with "all those idiots out there" behind most blogs, and it might be fun to know at least the better ones. I am, of course, not thinking of the "what-my-kids-did-this-week-and-where-I-went-on-a-business-trip-without-telling-you-what-could-possibly-be-interesting-about-that" kind of blogs. Those bloggers can keep their motivations to themselves, though to be honest, it's probably a lot less obvious what their hot button is--at least to me, seeing as how I spend most of my time when I happen to misfortune upon (awkward use, I know, but it's from the heart) one of their blogs thinking, and occasionally blurting, "What they hell was this guy thinking? Who'd want to read that?"
*I can't say I really agree with this "blogger's truism" about dreams. While I understand that the hamfisted attempts most people make to put an essentially non-narrative form into text leaves a bit to be desired, and that any dream, like guitar feedback, is "more fun to play than it is to listen to," I think there's room in the world for entertaining dream-recounting. Knowing how unpopular this practice is in the world of writers and editors, I'll probably refrain for the most part, and present heavily-edited versions when I feel it's entirely necessary. Lengthy digressions, on the other hand, will be commonplace, I'm sure.
Anyhoo, that's all a very long preface to my laying out what's driven me to blog. This is not my first pass at blogdom, but it is my first stab at sustaining my own personal blog. My wife and I, in desperation over "those idiots out there," decided to do a blog that would foist our political views on others. It quickly became apparent that my style is to spend a lot less time on political issues (in terms of blogging) than on personal issues, and as she is much more prolific, and a good deal funnier on such things, I decided to sort of bow out of that endeavor pretty early on. Her blog (oinkment,
see right) is supposed to be a glass of cold water in the face of a sleeping nation, whereas I've always gone for the bowl of warm water to put the sleeping nation's hand in.
So I was out of the blog business pretty much as fast as I got in. Still, just having started to think about writing on a regular basis opened my mind to the possibility, so the idea stayed way in the musty back of my mind along with the comic books in plastic bags, Judas Priest albums and "Keep on Truckin'" T-shirts*. Eventually, the weight of really clever, but unshared, observations just pushed me over the edge, and into my own blog.
*See how musty? My, but we are clever. Ugh. Goodness, I have to work on my prose--they say that simile and metaphor add spice, but I can't even get them to add mustiness.
The straw that broke this particular camel's back? The earth-shattering observation that a whole lot of Americans (and even more "merkuns") will probably wake up on April 16th feeling a lot less rosy about President Bush's supposed tax cuts than maybe they do now. After all, the day before, they will have just handed in their Federal taxes, having seen first hand just how much those tax cuts were actually putting money in their pockets. I think pretty much everybody who thinks about such things knows that's not going to be much money at all, and after State taxes, people are really going to be burning to know, "Hey! What the fuck? Where's my big tax refund this
year?" If the press is even slightly on the ball, they could have a field day standing around the post office at 11 pm on the 15th, letting the exiting taxpayers write their copy for them, and possibly Bush's epitaph to boot. On April 16th, Georgie Porgie may answer the door to the White House residence and find a burning paper bag. He's gonna have to stomp it out, but he's gonna track the shit all through his house.
So that's why I'm here. Yeah, I know--"What the hell is this guy thinking? Who'd want to read that?," but as you can probably tell, I'm just crammed full of other wit and insight to share with you. So we march on, my hapless victims.