Blogs have been in the mainstream press recently. The debate goes on: does this represent a revolution in journalism & publishing? Or does it merely enable thousands of people to navel-gaze?

After a NYT article on blogs, I wrote a letter arguing the former. Blogs enabled the democraticization of media that desktop publishing and the Web itself had promised but failed to deliver. (At least there won't be quite so many never-updated sites with pictures of cats.) But now I'm not so sure.

To me, the question of are-Blogs-hot-or-not is as silly as asking if television, radio, newsprint, and slabs of stone are "good" media. The medium is blank. When TV was created, no one would could have predicted game shows, reality programming, or pornography beamed into bedrooms by satellite. (I can't help but think of Ernie Kovacs, a great innovator in TV, who said "televison is called a medium because it is neither rare nor well-done.") People thought TV was going to be like radio with pictures. (In general, new forms of media tend to mimic their predecessors -- the Gutenberg bible was printed to look like a manuscript bible -- but that's another topic.)

So what's significant about blogs? It's not the technology, it's the shift in ownership. The stream of information widens. No longer is all our news and entertainment flowing from corporate-owned media. We can talk to each other, say what we've found interesting, edit and comment and write and amuse. Evan William's motto for Blogger is Push-Button Publishing for the People. Now he's given the power of the press to we, the people. The question is, what the hell do we do with it?

The answer is: so far, not much.

There are a lot of good blogs out there. Blogs with a point of view. Blogs that are funny. Blogs that are well-written diarys, essays, and commentary. But they're far too infrequent. What we get, often, are Webfloggers and Webcloggers.

[Before I start casting stones, let me say that I don't think this site is perfect. I've been guilty of the sins I'm about to pronounce. But this is my way of saying: this is what I want this site to be.]

First, the Webflogger (as in, flogging a dead horse). The Webflogger moves over the surface of things, looking for bright shiny objects. The Webflogger surfs to DayPop or Blogdex and sees where all the other Blogs are going. The Webflogger posts links to what everyone else is posting links to: the same stories, or sites, or news. The Webflogger makes surfing itself the subject of the blog. If the Webflogger has spent an hour roaming around the Internet, the Webflogger has something to show for it: a set of links. Look what I found, Mom!

Not that posting a link to something interesting is, by itself, evidence of Webflogging. Most Blogs do this, even the good ones; the media is suited for it. But the Webflogger doesn't merely surf, and then record what's interesting. The Webflogger begins to surf for the sole reason of finding things to post for the blog. The blog must be fed, it must be updated constantly, it must be filled with content. The Webflogger blogs to give meaning to surfing, and surfs to give meaning to the blog.

Second, the Webclogger. The Webclogger clogs the web with the minutiae of life, recording meaningless incidents. "I had oatmeal for breakfast." "It's beautiful outside today. Went for a nice walk earlier."

Now, a well written journal or diary is good to read, and should even be published. When bloggers write with passion about what's happened to them, how they're feeling, what's going on in their lives, it can be interesting, funny, moving. But what are we to make of the Webclogger? Why do they think that these things will matter to anyone else?

Perhaps they're not meant for anyone else, and the Webclogger is using the blog as a daily journal, a place just to write whatever the hell they want to. But it's clear that most of these are meant to be read -- otherwise, why would they join BlogSnob, or webrings, or any of the other means of advertising themselves?

So here's my theory on Webclogging. A Webclogger uses the blog to create meaning out of the meaningless happenings of their lives. (I don't mean to imply that all diarists lead meaningless lives, just that we all have meaningless things happen to us that don't seem worth writing about. Even Gandhi brushed his teeth, but I don't really care to know about it.)

See, if you're famous, everybody cares about these minutiae. The corporate media tells us to care about them. What's Ozzy Osbourne's home life like. How does Cher decorate her home. We even have shows like Real World and Big Brother, that feed on this voyeurism. We watch nobodies do nothing, but they're doing nothing on television.

I believe that the Webclogger is almost famous. The Webclogger wants us to read about breakfast, the commute, how annoying the elevator is, whatever. Because if that experience is broadcast, it becomes meaningful. We live in a world where virtual things are more meaningful than our own experience. (A topic for another day, but cf. Emily's recent essay on the kitschification of September 11th.) So we mediate ourselves, put the webcam in our room, write up what we do.

This is why the Webclogger must have other people read their site: because otherwise, the effect is lost. So they join rings, and link to each other, and watch their hitcount, and read their referral logs. (I know I do.) Each of those hits, each incoming link, each ranking and comment and click is a tiny egoboo. For a moment, the Webclogger is a star, because other people read about their breakfast.

So, if you've made it this far, you're probably wondering: what makes you so high and mighty? Who asked you to judge my blog? And what about yours? If you scroll down, you'll find plenty of examples of both Webflogging and Webclogging. Like I said, this is my way of figuring out what I want this blog to be, by saying what I think it shouldn't be. If you want to have a blog of daily links, or write about your teeth, by all means go ahead. I'm just saying that I won't.

When Ishbadiddle started, it was supposed to be a way for friends to share their opinions on things that mattered to them. We're smart people, we have good things to say about the movies we watch, the books we read, the music we listen to. Why shouldn't we say it to each other?

Things changed dramatically with September 11th, 2001. We needed to hear what had happened to each other. We needed to share our thoughts and feelings and opinions about what was happening. For most of us, we didn't need to mediate that day, to live it through a website. It happened to us. We watched our towers fall, we had the ashes rain on our streets, we fled the burning city. Some of us lost people we knew. All of us feel a hole in our heart.

But now, whither Ishbadiddle? Quite simply, I think it's a conversation, about things that matter to us. That we are passionate about. That delight us, amaze us, revolt us. Some of the things are important (war, politics, the environment). Some of them aren't as important (movies, books, music). But if they matter to us, we will write about them. [I'm not using the royal "we" here, I'm referring to the dozen or so posters to this site.]

And so I'm removing the sitecounter. I've had 2,500 hits since November, thanks very much, but I don't care any more. I'm removing the referral log. If you've found your way here, welcome, nice to see you. Maybe it was a crazy google search, or maybe I was linked somewhere else, or maybe you're a friend or someone who's just stumbled here and likes to read what we write. But I don't care how you got here; only that you're interested enough to stay. Comment if you like. I'm removing the links to Blogdex, Boing Boing, memepool, and the other meta-blogs. If I find something to write about, I'll find it myself. Otherwise, why bother? I'm getting rid of link exchanges and ratings systems. And I'm not sending out weekly emails any more. If you're interested, then stop by sometime.

So keep on writing about what matters. Be part of the conversation. Or just read this occasional report on ephemeral things.

M E-L posted this on March 22, 2002
It is filed under Blogs & Blogging, Featured Posts

It is also indexed with the following tags: Manifesto |