The selfish blogger

It is official. All blogs are boring. As a phenomena, fascinating. Individually, mundane. There is nothing new. The same complaints, the same small pleasures, the same dull boring human morass.

There is almost nothing I can read in a blog/web diary, that has not already been written, and published, at some time, in some way, on paper.

Most bloggers are petty, smallminded, self absorbed, privileged members of the vaguely techni-literate class. They can steer a keyboard and talk about themselves and that's about it. There is nothing that separates the bloggers central concern, self interest, from any other period of "written" activity.

Sure, what a historical time to be recording thoughts, to be casting prunes into the chutney, but on no account, are bloggers, although many seem to believe they act independently, on no account, are bloggers alone of any importance. Blogs are a simple expression of virtual domesticity, however outrageous the poster's claim. It is an interior activity, and one that, is more effective when a blogger stops being such an ingratiating slave to moribund rebellious sensationalism and insincere pleasantries and admits to fallibility without raising the conductors baton and rousing the orchestra. How refreshing it would be, to read a blog bereft of ego.

And how implausible.