I looked at my blog (this thing I’m writing in now) today and the thought that surfaced, unbidden, was “poor old blog.”
I felt bad because I haven’t been writing here like I used to, so sure I get the “poor” part — poor pitiful blog that isn’t getting my attention.
But where on earth did “old” come from? Besides the fact that “poor old whatever” is a common figure of speech, it felt a little shocking coming to the front of my brain while looking at a blog. I mean, I wouldn’t say “poor old iPhone” if I hadn’t picked one up for a week (and if I owned one to begin with).
I mean, blogs are still new, right?
But here he is (I’m convinced my blog is a “he” but I have no idea why, really). My blog, like all the other blogs, just taken for granted now. Blogs — part of the permanent landscape, like plastic grocery bags and 24 hour gas stations.
It was such a big deal just not long ago, but now here they are, blogs, sitting around watching other, younger, nimbler channels giddily running around their feet without a care in the world. The Twitters, Jaikus, Facebook apps. The Dopplrs, Flickrs and the rest.
It’s like somebody took a hammer to the idea of “blog” and it exploded, skittering into a million bits, like mercury.
So that’s what’s been up. I’ve been twittering, facebooking (yeah, it’s a verb, as far as I’m concerned), text-messaging… even the occasional “instant message” through the venerable old AIM or iChat, even though now that’s starting to feel as antiquated as a smoke signal or carrier pigeon.
If there was ever any chance of keeping focus long enough to write sound, thorough paragraphs, lately it’s been eviscerated to a barely throbbing stump.
I wonder if my poor old blog will rally? If it’ll show these whippersnappers it’s not done for yet? Like in the sports movies, you know, where the old batter who everybody thinks is all washed up slams another one over the bleachers?
I don’t know. All I know right now is, there’s my blog. With its complete sentences, its barely-touched comment threads. Its antiquated notion of being at a domain-named location. Its precious permalinks & dated archives, like it’s some kind of newspaper scholars will scan on microfiche in future generations.
Doesn’t it know that everything’s just a stream now? Everything’s a vapor trail?
Poor old blog.