Why do you blog?
It fascinates me that so many people do. Who would have thought that so many of us were starved of this facility to communicate with complete strangers and get feedback from them? I get the impression, from the blogs I read, that most of you are jolly people with friends, interests and hobbies – not introverted souls with no one to talk to.
(Except perhaps the Person from Salford and such like hoverers in the background. No, actually I reckon the Person from Salford is just very, very bored at work. I was a bit horrified, by the way, over Christmas to find that my statistics had plummeted – till it occurred to me that a lot of you must read blogs at work. You’re not so interested in other people's lives as to waste precious holiday time reading about them, but working time is a different matter. No wonder the economy’s going down the drain.)
What will eventually happen to all our blogs? They must be on some huge server somewhere – I can’t imagine such hugeness, but surely it will one day be full: choked with all our deep thoughts about vinyl and sewing and cats and weather and plants? One day, I suppose, Mr Blogger will shout “No more!” and delete us all.
Or will it remain, an enormous bank of material for future social historians? But there’s so much of it! How could any researcher trawl through the vast heap of words to extract the gems? The first blog I ever read was that of someone I was at school with – she mentioned it on her Friends Reunited message. Then I clicked on Next Blog and found Paul, a wonderful chap in his 80s in California. Which was such luck, because from then on, Next Blog led me only ever to crowds of illiterate teenagers rambling on about their college room mates and the movies they’d just seen.
Why do they blog? Why do I? Why do you?