The End of Blogging | The New York Observer
Is it? Really?
I "stopped" blogging over a year ago, after years of posting every workday. I still haven't gone on Facebook, my Twitter languishes unloved in the ether and my 'creative outlet' has what, three posts over two years? I don't even know, I haven't looked in months.
Three of my favorite bloggers have died, one quit completely, a couple got boring, a couple more became "all God, all the time", several joined some kind of news service, a bunch more went politically over the edge (both ways) and a whole lot started posting too many damn videos. My favorites list has shrunk from over twenty to two. That's right, two. And Imma tell you why...
Most of the blogs that I used to read post the same shit. Seriously. Same stories, same opinions, same comments. And it doesn't matter if it's a political blog, news blog, tech blog, car blog, sports blog or art blog. Every blog has some issue with Sarah Palin. Love her or hate her, if she takes a shit, it's on the blogs. Every blog has some bullshit "pop culture" sensitivity, so you have to wade through the latest "outrage" some one hit wonder or teen TV star caused and I don't care. Almost every blog nowadays exists to feed traffic to larger, corporate blogs, who suck traffic from the weirder places that made the innertubes the innertubes. Hell, even the porn sites have gotten boring. Where are the characters? Where are the weirdos? Where are the blogs were you could start reading the top post and not stop until you were two years deep in archives? Where are the blogs where the comment sections are wild, loose and untrolled, or hell, even empty?
Where's the entertainment?
I don't post more because I just don't have much to say anymore. And when I do have something to say, I rarely have time to say it. And by the time I decide I'm going to say something, I just don't feel like it any more. Plus, everyone's on Facebook and no one would read it anyway. Not that that bothered me before, but it kinda does now that I'm mashed in the face with Twitter updates and text messages and status updates.
For the record, I hate texting.
I fucking HATE texting. Don't text me. Leave a voicemail. Call me. Send a fucking email. Write a letter in pigeon blood on parchment made from human skin, I don't give a fuck, just don't text me.
... and I've lost almost twenty pounds on Weight Watchers. Seriously. I posted a while ago about how I got fat as hell by eating like a pig and not exercising, because really I just wanted to eat like a pig and not exercise. But I can only get so fat before I start feeling like shit, and my limit is 215. It's happened twice now. After I quit smoking (which makes me a better person than you, even if you've never smoked), I put on about forty pounds. I ended up going to the doctor because I felt crappy, I got weighed while I was there and found out I weighed 215. So I freaked and started exercising and eventually dieting and changed the way I et. I was at a good weight, between 180 and 190 for about five years, depending on how much salt or booze I had eaten or drank the days before. And then... I gave up. and BLAMMO! Fat as shit. So. Back on the horse, trying hard to get my activity points in every day, and eating the points I'm assigned, and the flab is really melting off. What took years before with no help is going to take months with help. I really recommend the Weight Watcher's online. Especially if you travel and eat out a lot. It's great, I can see my dick again.
I also changed the way I work out. I was doing splits...I'd pick some body parts and say, this is my leg day... this is my bag day... it's arm day... And what ended up happening is that I got lazy. My squats and dead lifts disappeared first because it took too much time to move everything out of the way, then the same with pullups. Then I got an EZ bar, so dumbell work went out the window, then my shoulder started aching so I quit benching too. So eventually my workout became four sets of standing EZ bar curls in between conference calls. Better than nothing, I thought, but I was wrong. So I'm doing full body complexes now. I have to get my four activity points in a day, and they call for vigorous effort, so it's one point on the elliptical and three points weight lifting. The weights are lighter, but damn... it's hard.
I do think it's interesting that the scale can tell me that I've lost almost twenty pounds, but the mirror shows no change and my pants don't seem any looser. I take that back, my fat pants (good God, what have I become) are loose, but my regular dress pants, that I bought just last summer because my fat pants looked bad all bunched up, are still too damn tight. My guess is that this means I was fatter than I thought. Which makes sense now that I think about it, because my dick looks smaller than I remember. I'll continue to blame it on the weather, it's freezing here, but if it doesn't grow back I'll have to have liposuction.