I swore to myself when I started this blog that I would not succumb to the pressure to post, especially about the news of the moment. But I already seem to be doing that. That way lies madness, I’m sure, and I am going to try to knock it off by writing about things other than the snooze.
Trevor Butterworth (love that name) summed it up frighteningly (and at great, but readable length) not long ago. Well, in February.
"…the dismal fate of blogging: it renders the word even more evanescent than journalism; yoked, as bloggers are, to the unending cycle of news and the need to post four or five times a day, five days a week, 50 weeks of the year, blogging is the closest literary culture has come to instant obsolescence. No Modern Library edition of the great polemicists of the blogosphere to yellow on the shelf; nothing but a virtual tomb for a billion posts – a choric song of the word-weary bloggers, forlorn mariners forever posting on the slumberless seas of news."
Nope, not me. No, no, no.
And if you have nothing pressing, after reading the whole thing, you might try the 90 comments on his piece. I’m going to go read a book.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 