A Sullen Bunch

I was just "flipping through" the blogs which have recently been updated. (The homepage for Blogger runs that little list that keeps up with the latest blog posts.) And in the three minutes I let myself go through the sites of random people, I discovered two things.

1. We are a sullen bunch. Eight of the ten blogs I looked at had recent posts about crying, being depressed, being sad, being unloved. And these were actual blogs, not just photo blogs, or corporate-business-advertisement blogs, by the way.

2. Blogs are like 45s. You can flip through a box of vinyl and pretty much guess what the deal is with each LP within the first few seconds. The cover art, the name of the band, the titles of the songs, all give away some hints as to the tone of the overall album. In the same way, you can basically flip through blogs, and figure out what it's about in the first few lines, the post titles, or the banner art. Sometimes it's in the first few words.

For example, in this blog, I kind of got the gist with the first line. Right.

Of course, like records, blogs can sometimes surprise you, by having real writing buried in the midst of same tune sung over and over. Amidst crappy dischord, sometimes a blogger can have a moment of real genius. I can't find an example right now, but I know it's out there. And I'm not referencing this blog.

In fact the only thing I can find right now is this blog, by a 12-year-old, which has a promising banner, about the melody of life. But then after that, the blog just makes me sad, because he won't type out the words "and" or "you"... and spells days "daes"... to be fair, I don't remember what it was like to be 12 really, but a) I know I wasn't blogging and b) I didn't write in witebonics either.

(I just made up "witebonics" is there another term for the weirdo nonsense abbreviations that little kids use these days? Is it like text-bonics, because it started with text messages?)

So I guess in as much as a blog can pleasantly surprise after investing more than a glance, it can just as easily make you want to go write one of those sad little posts yourself.

Dear sweet god, could Mike Judge be right?