I’ve been enjoying my little surfings through the blogosphere, although blogs do sometimes make me stretch my claws. There seem to be blogs about all sorts of things: even blogs about blogs.
Blogs about babies: there seem to be tons of those, I suppose someone out there – if only the writer – really does want to remember that little Johnny threw up on the couch and took his first steps today. They’re generally a bit sickly and soppy, peppered with words like ‘sweet’, ‘adorable’ and ‘precious’, but I suppose parenthood does that to people. Wouldn’t know, thank goodness. They make me feel slightly nauseous, but then I’m the opposite of sweet, adorable and precious.
There are also a lot of bogs about how people spent their day. Some are amusing, some are interesting, and some are mundane – what people had for breakfast, how many times their bowels moved, went to the shops and then went home etc, etc. Then there are blogs about how wonderful life is and how happy the writer is, and they’re full of inspiring quotes, and they seem to keep it up indefinitely. I doubt its sincere, but there it is, and perhaps it gives them a lift writing such stuff. Bet you anything you like the authors are clinically depressed, poor things.
There are pretentious blogs. Yes, I know these are people’s thoughts (At least their public ones), but some of them are pretentious, pompous people, so I suppose its natural that there should be a fair amount of pretentious, pompous blogs to match. It’s a pity that some of them can’t spell and use grocer’s apostrophes. It rather spoils the effect.
I’ve also read some pretty bad poetry, blogs dedicated to complaining about things, blogs about obscure hobbies and crafts, peculiar sexual proclivities, music, sports – the list is endless.
I think a blog is like talking to yourself out loud. You never know who might be listening, so what you project is a public persona: the sweet mommy, the person with the hunky dory life, the intellectual, the poet. Occasionally, I see a blog that seems to be completely sincere, but they’re thin on the ground and its still a public image – so self censorship seems inevitable.
I’m not sure what I’m trying to project, although I’ll freely admit that my blog is sanitized: the slightly scrubbed version of maundering mutterer, only slightly tarnished. Hope you like my semi-effulgent thoughts.