Friday, June 25, 2010

Reviving a dead horse

Some people have recently asked me why I haven’t blogged in a while. There are multiple reasons, but one of the main issues is simply that I am scared to. I read lots of blogs. Far too many, I’m afraid. Most blogs point to other blogs. I click on these links with timidity and awe. How did a complete stranger cause me to visit another stranger’s site? And so, like this beguiled paragraph, my workflow gets bounced across the interwebs down a tangential path of infinity.

The problem with the blogosphere is that it is far too large. Anybody can post content, and most of it is not worth reading. Various folks guy trying to make it as bloggers, posting on all sorts of sites, and doing it with very little writing ability. So much blogging is stream of consciousness rather than thought-out, edited writing. It’s the sort of first draft drivel one might expect to come out of a persons mouth, not through the written word. Or worse, that one might expect to come from a blog called nojrotsap.

And then there’s the oneupsmanship, of blogging. Particularly on religious/youth blogs, we try to make ourselves known by spewing out words, posting them, and pretending it’s writing. This causes the material itself to degrade into the TMZ style literary gulag that seeks spectators and helps nobody. Our goal becomes making it on the top 20 blogs of the year rather than creating art, celebrating Jesus, or sharing ourselves. It’s almost as bad as a regional church conference, where everyone tries to be noticed with witty insights that don't contribute to the conversation.

So why don’t I blog often? I have plenty of material I would like to explore, and have considered going through someone else’s list of topics. But here are my reasons why not:

1) I don’t want to be “that blogging youth pastor guy”

2) I don’t make writing a priority

3) I am afraid my material is the kind of writing that makes for great blog fodder like others are for me

4) When I do blog, I become needy for comments.

Ultimately, I’m shallow.