Do you know a lot about blogs? Have you used them in your daily life? Do you enjoy reading blogs? Do you run your own blog? Do you enjoy writing blogs? What types do you enjoy most? Are blogs worthwhile? What purpose do they serve? What do you dislike about blogs? Would you prefer to read/write a blog or do something else? Are blogs meaningful?
All of these questions and more ran through my mind when I was first introduced to the idea that I’d have to begin a blog for this week’s module in my current Masters course at VSU. Let me be Frank, you can be Al, Cindy, Marcia, Jacob, Raphael, Lee, or whatever other name your parents saw fit to bless/curse you with. I’m not a big fan of blogs. There are a virtual plethora of activities I can be doing instead of blogging, and I certainly don’t plan to continue reading them, but to each his own. I think the reason why is because I’m lazy, and it takes more effort to peruse blogs and read them than it does to flip a channel on the TV or pick up my DS and tear the snot out of some enemies. But, it could also be because so many blogs are about your life.
I don’t care about you. I don’t care about your family. I don’t care about your life period. I don’t care if you don’t care. I think that could be one of my more major arguments against the validity of blogs – people rant (much like I’m doing now) and discuss things momentous and earth-shaking to them, but pointless to others.
To be fair . . . there are worthwhile and important blogs floating around in cyber space, and they are usually pretty easy to find as many of them interlink with each other. Again though, this comes full circle to that whole lazy thing. I can see validity with blogs. I can see relevance. I can see purpose, and I can see importance. But, I can also see foolishness. I can see whining. I can see pointlessness, and I can see irritation. Blogs do serve a purpose, even if it’s about nothing more grandiose than a place to rant (like here). We all need that outlet – it just kills me that people out there want to read yours. I don’t. And yes, I know that you probably don’t want to read mine either. I care, but not really . . .
