September 28, 2007

No technology, no politics, and no jelly.

This is nothing new. For five years, I’ve kept a blog. Two blogs, actually. But I wouldn’t call myself a blogger. That, to me, conjures up images of tech-geeks, guys in their thirties getting together to make snide remarks about iPhones, politicos who drop names of Capitol-hillers I’ve never heard of, or women in their forties who blog about their favorite jellies and where you can find sweet crochet patterns on the world-wide-interweb. Whether my impressions of quote-unquote “bloggers” are accurate, I can’t say. But I don’t want to call myself a blogger. I would, however, like to at least think of myself as a writer. And the best way to be a better writer is to write everyday.

It seems like you need to have a specific subject – technology, jelly, politics - to keep a successful blog. And I don’t have a subject. I’m not an expert in anything. But the whole “blogosphere” idea bugs me because it implies a horde of bloggers who all converge to talk about the latest thing and sound off their opinions. Everyone is saying mostly the same things. And you only need to read a few political blogs to see this. I don’t want to be a part of the blogosphere. I want people to read what I write not because they know who I am or because they’re looking for political affirmation, but because I am mildly amusing and worth reading. To effectively do this, I know that I need to keep it short.

And space out paragraphs like this.

People do a lot of experimenting in college. They go to parties, they meet new people, they try gateway drugs. My experimentation was with xanga. When I was a freshman, I started a xanga, the “Mcblog” of blogs, if you will. And, though I wouldn’t consider myself a pioneer, this was five years ago and for a long time afterward I kept seeing news stories about this new fad called “blogging.” I found myself wondering why this was news, because I was never at the forefront of anything, and to me this was old news. I must have been in on the ground floor of average-joe template-blogging. Most of my friends soon began their own experimenting and started their blogs, too. Mostly, they used them to tell about their weekends, made it so I wouldn’t have to talk to them in real life, and only a few ever really branched out into any real substance or amusement. I wanted responses; I wanted to amuse. I was a comment junkie from the beginning.

Eventually, xanga lost its appeal. It was what all the junior highers were doing. I had to move onto bigger, better drugs. I mean, blogs. I got a MySpace. And a little while later, I started a blogspot much like this one, which I never publicized. Over the past few years, most of the casual bloggers in high school and college have stopped blogging and started getting their social buzz from Facebook. Thank the Lord for Facebook, it weeded out all the posers.

For now, I’m a full grown man with refined, professional tastes. With this here blog, I’ll be exploring the world and hopefully keep it from getting boring. The deal is that if you keep reading, I’ll keep writing. I’ll stay away from technology unless it’s something really sweet. I’ll stay away from politics unless I get really upset or have something mildly amusing to share with you about politics or politicians. And as big of a jelly fan as I am, I know that not everyone shares my affinity for preserves. So no jam posts.

Come to think of it, I never told you why I called this “Na├»ve Jim.” Well, guess you’ll have to tune in next time. And don’t forget to ask for more Ovaltine, please.

And I’m still a comment junkie.

One Love.

September 26, 2007