More rubbish

I was going to write a blog post or two. You know, it’s a new year, with yet another ambition to start blogging again, just like in the ever-older days.

But it seems so much harder now, compared to then. Partly, it’s the usual problem of not having written in ages; the pressure builds up until I feel that the next post will have to be amazing, extraordinary, worth any wait.

But I also feel more resistant to putting my opinions up here than I used to. Which is odd, as I’m happy to do so on, say, Twitter. But writing here feels more permanent, with less excuse for off-the-cuff ideas I’ll regret later. There’s space to explain things here, and so I feel whatever I post should be sturdy, defensible, and will stand the test of time (whether that’s a day or a decade). Whereas a 100-character tweet I knocked out while chewing a mouthful of breakfast is more easily forgivable. A blog post leaves me feeling socially and emotionally exposed in a way that a couple of tweets don’t. Tweets are mere passing thoughts, snippets of transient chat; let’s move on.

Having finished writing this post, including the asterisked footnote at the end, I’m already rewriting the previous paragraph over-and-over, agonising over whether it conveys exactly what I mean. Do I need to add another caveat about that last sentence? It’s a little too absolute isn’t it? I don’t want people to misunderstand what I think here. But this was supposed to be a hasty little thing and I’ve already spent half an hour fiddling around. And now, a few minutes later, I’m tweaking this paragraph over and over like I want to be here for ever.

A decade ago this was the only place I’d post things. It was about the only place I could, really. It was full of tiny, fleeting moments of little consequence, and that was fine. Now, with oodles of financially unsustainable businesses built around encouraging us to share our every thought, I’m not short of friction-free outlets for them. And so a weblog*, to me, feels like it’s only for larger things. Well-digested, crafted, robust, original treatises that will add something to the world. Which is a shame. So maybe I’ll try to post more rubbish instead.

* [Fistbump emoticon] to anyone else who still calls them weblogs.

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12 Jan 2014 at Twitter

  • 10:29pm: Wearables idea: head-mounted device which burns your ears when someone is talking about you online.
  • 10:12pm: @suegyford Not me :(
  • 10:12pm: Oh, yes, maybe that! RT @DeanVipond: @philgyford Utopia? That had my stomach tied in knots.
  • 10:11pm: Trying to remember the last time I felt really tense watching a British TV drama… struggling.
  • 4:29pm: @mildlydiverting I bought wellies for a trip to snowy Edinburgh a couple of years ago. It had melted when we got there. Still not used them.
  • 9:19am: @blech I was a bit underwhelmed by the latter, but in a way that’s too long for tweets. It was well done, but I left a bit annoyed,

12 Jan 2014 in Links