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Different Kind of Technology 

I have a friend ( Correction: Most of my friends think that, actually) who thinks I am an idiot for reading other people’s dairies.  Blogs, to be correct.  For the, um, older people:  blogs are (sort of ) public diaries and if you haven’t heard about blogs yet then I don’t know what to do with you.    I have no idea why people are writing them and why other people are reading them.   I suppose there’s something gratifying and satisfying about being read or ”publishing” your writings.   I have a number of favourite blogs.  I don’t have a desire to meet the people who write them, in real life, but I ”visit” them everyday and – I know this makes me possibly the Biggest Loser of the Universe – I feel emotional toward some.

Lots of people make fun of and criticize bloggers.  Who the hell cares if Joe Blow had a toast for breakfast and if Jane Cow has really good sex with her boyfriend, Tim,  who’s a really fascinating comic book store clerk?  Why the hell should I read some idiot’s ”wisdoms” about attending university six years ago or playing a flute at a Star Trek convention?  Okay.  So there are  blogs and there are blogs.   No one is forcing anybody to read the bad ones and you can pretty much tell if a blog is bad right away so sure, you’ll read in morbid fascination for about a minute or two, but then you’ll simply move on the next blog (or will possibly do what you’re paid to do in your little cubicle). 

The blogs that I feel emotional toward are the ones that are informative or funny or simply very well written.  There’s one blog which I read every single day where commentators (You can put your comments on most blogs.  I’m sure commenting on a blog is just an absolute perversion of blog-admiration) are having a passionate discussion about the author.  The author is, allegedly, an eighteen-year rich girl who sleeps with married men.  The blog is written really, quite well, and the comments are simply pure gems of human stupiditity which I also find fascinating.

Another blog I read is written by a 25-year old who is officially the funniest man on this continent (Anctartica), one Jason Mulgrew and if you care you’ll find him and will enjoy his totally disgusting, hilarious musings about life of a person who describes himself as: ”Internet Quasi-Celebrity and Pervert, Making Fat Sexy Since 1979.”  I read him every day even though I don’t really want to because his blog makes me feel as if I was molested by a half-paralyzed midget, on a Romanian train, circa 1981.

My final argument why everyone should have read a blog or two is because of a blog I found yesterday.  It is a blog written by a person who lives in Detroit city.  If you know anything about Detroit, you are probably aware that this city is like a largely abandoned, crime-ridden building with hollowed out windows (Lots of buildings in Detroit actually look just like that).  I’ve never been to Detroit but I’ve heard stories.  And now I’m reading this blog which – supplemented with pictures – is probably one of the best things I’ve ever read.  I don’t have to go to Detroit to get to know it now, thanks to this blog (A. I can’t afford to.  B. I’m lazy).  It’s like a window to somebody else’s world, which, essentially, gives me a well-needed break from mine.