After nearly three years of trying, we finally broke bread tonight with oft-commenter Oliver and his significant Sophie at Pepper’s Pizza tonight, and we discussed, among other things, the role this blog has played in my life over the last insane years. I’ve come to realize that I’m pretty lucky when it comes to disclosure; I could give a fuck what anyone thinks of me via this online journal, and that includes future employers. My rationale is that if they don’t want to hire me because of something on this site, it probably wasn’t going to work out anyway.
There might come a day when I’ll no longer be able to maintain a blog for media/legal reasons, like my friend Dan, who works for a huge entertainment mogul and is thus disallowed to share his opinions on the Web in any incarnation. But until then, I’ll keep writing about poop and farts and Celexa and all the other things that will totally ruin my chances for a strong Senate run in 2008.
Funny how so many people still have no idea what a blog is. Even if you do, there are so many kinds of blogs that it beggars description. Very few people have the luxury I do of being honest, as there is no boss around to fire me, and I stopped being self-conscious of my goofy pictures at some point in 1987.
Another kind of blog is best exemplified by our friend Peter, who doesn’t approach each blog with the Here’s Where I Put My Big Thoughts pretense that I do, but is fabulously entertaining all the same. For instance, I have trouble differentiating between my computer icons too, but I just never thought anyone else was as annoyed by it.
Blogs on specific topics are nice too, like our girl Quinn Cummings (yes, THAT Quinn) and Mac Rogers, who discuss parenting and playwrighting, respectively. If you want some serious histrionics on theater, look no further than my brother Sean’s blog, who can rant the chrome off a trailer hitch (by the way, I also heartily recommend Michelle and Kent’s blogs too, for vastly different styles).
Now, besides crowd-favorite-commenter Caren and her blog that mentions “woke up, put on clothes, went to work”™ every day, I think the best blog on the internet belongs to my 15-year-old nephew Lucas, who may have the most honest, pure journal ever.
I mean, this is someone whose entire post says “I hate the name ‘Morgan’. I’m sorry anyone who is named that.” And gets 17 comments! His group of friends on that blog is quick, supportive, and effusive. The blog’s name is “Concerned (but Powerless)”, which sums up the paradox of this particular brand of teen.
I do wonder if the prolific internetting of these kids is leading to their somewhat flat-affect of real-live interaction, and god knows what will happen to them if the power ever goes out, but fuck, I love reading that blog. It’s like intercepting a cascade of passed notes in biology class.