Feb 282008
 

One of the inter­est­ing ses­sions I went to at North­ern­Voice was the Blogs are Dead; Long Live the Blog­ger ses­sion facil­it­ated ably by Chris Lott. There’s a write-up on this wiki; as usu­al a lot of thought-pro­vok­ing stuff was said, only some of which I’ve found recor­ded. I’ve noticed changes myself over the last few years of observing part of the blog­ging world (by neces­sity, only a small part). 

I’ve noticed that lots of people aren’t blog­ging as much, or indeed any more, for var­ied reas­ons. Some spend more time on twit­ter, which scratches their com­mu­nic­a­tion itch, and effect­ively let their blog lapse. Some post no longer need to tell friends and fam­ily what they’re up to via a blog. A fair num­ber of crafters are on Ravelry and post their pro­jects there and don’t need a blog any more.

I’ve noticed changes in the blogs, too; maybe because many people whose blogs I read are using twit­ter et al for the more “trivi­al” dis­cus­sions and thoughts, the blog post­ings tend to be about weight­i­er sub­jects, or work-related. In many cases the tone is more form­al and (dare I say it) bor­ing; I’ve giv­en up on quite a few blogs that used to be fun to read, even if the sub­ject mat­ter was incon­sequen­tial, because they now are more weighty and ser­i­ous and not as enter­tain­ing. Or they’ve turned into col­lec­tions of links. The occa­sion­al link posts, with com­ments as to why those links are worth click­ing on, is fine, but I quickly tire of blogs that con­sist solely of links to oth­er blogs and art­icles. I really can­’t be bothered hanging on in the hope that the author will even­tu­ally come up with some­thing original.

One big excep­tion that I’ve noticed is the craft­ing blogs, which (not­with­stand­ing the people who’ve quit now that they’re on Ravelry) have much the same type of con­tent. I star­ted a craft­ing blog after join­ing Ravelry, and I know oth­ers who’ve done the same. Many crafters see their blogs as a refresh­ing change from work, delib­er­ately not talk­ing about top­ics out­side the bound­ar­ies, keep­ing the dis­cus­sion focussed (more or less) on the ser­i­ous craft­ing issues of types of yarn, wheth­er the knit­ted object will fit once it’s fin­ished, and the best way to cre­ate a par­tic­u­lar design or concept. Or just post­ing “I did this this way and this is how it turned out.” 

I don’t think the blog is dead; it’s just chan­ging as the concept dif­fuses out­side the circle of early adop­ters who are busy twit­ter­ing at each other. 

  5 Responses to “Ebbs and Blogs”

  1. Maybe it was­n’t as much the urge to speak as to know we were heard. When we real­ized we aren’t, we stopped. Play­ing to an empty house is as lonely as it gets.

    I’m hav­ing a ter­rible time with this elec­tion in the States. For all the urging to be in The Move­ment, age tells me there is little to that past the elec­tion, and then we have to deal as gen­er­a­tions always have. But in the back of my mind, I keep hear­ing Melanie Safka singing “Candles In the Rain” and it hurts all over again, then Paul and Artie singing “Amer­ica” and it just feels empty all over again.

    Prac­tic­al lead­er­ship is what aging chil­dren know is best, not com­prom­ised val­ues, but val­ues that resolve like a major sev­enth, at home yet nev­er final, some­thing prom­ised if yet uncap­tured. Hope.

    The Move­ment does give me hope, not because I think they have solu­tions, but because they think they do and they are will­ing to go cam­paign for them. With eyes dark­en­ing and every night’s sleep less rest­ful, it is good to hope… and to be heard.

  2. It’s really the urge to com­mu­nic­ate, not just to speak, but to know someone is listen­ing and think­ing about what we say. You nev­er know who is read­ing, who is agree­ing, wheth­er things get passed on to oth­ers. The polite listen­ing to the per­son on the soap box in the park has giv­en way to reac­tions in private and for many of us it’s rare to know wheth­er we have com­mu­nic­ated with any­one oth­er than ourselves on our blogs. I can­’t ima­gine a world without these com­mu­nic­a­tions meth­ods now, but that does­n’t mean we’ve all figured out how best to use them.

  3. Or what to use them for.

    I can eas­ily ima­gine the world without them because it is the world I grew up in. What I’m not sat­is­fied about is where the blog improves the world. We both tend, I think, toward the belief that the more we talk with oth­ers, the bet­ter off we are, but that is only true when all parties are listen­ing and at least attempt­ing to understand. 

    What I see indic­ates the res­ults are mixed. The con­stant twit­ter­ing is also turn­ing more people into com­mu­nic­a­tion game play­ers where blogs coupled with gam­ing coupled with the semi­ot­ic expert­ise of the last two dec­ades of polit­ics is cre­at­ing a gen­er­a­tion of people inter­ested in dom­in­at­ing, not com­mu­nic­at­ing. We can eas­ily get caught up by the Great Get Even and that may be a more prim­al urge than under­stand­ing. Per­haps part of the reas­on some aban­don the blogs is they fatigue of that struggle to be understood.

    Know thy­self.” Little has change there except when our tech­no­logy provides a bet­ter mir­ror. Blog­ging as with any diary may help there as long as we go back and read our old blogs from time to time.

  4. Some­times the effort to express ourselves is what’s import­ant, it helps cla­ri­fy thoughts, even if nobody else reads or thinks about it. I guess that’s the idea behind the concept of writ­ing let­ters to express hurt or anger that you then throw away without giv­ing to the per­son involved.

    Do blogs help? They can. I’ve had com­ments left on some of my posts that make me hope, any­way. Some­times it’s the throw-away posts that seem to get the most reac­tion, not the big deep ones. Maybe there’s a les­son in there that I still need to learn properly.

  5. I decided to check my assump­tions last night and Google myself. I don’t read serv­er logs or find out too often what is said or quoted unless it is in the con­text of a live con­ver­sa­tion. The res­ults stunned me. It was­n’t how much I pos­ted but the places I found it copied to, quoted, and so on. Yikes.

    So if the ques­tion is are we being heard? Yes we are. And some of it is mak­ing a dif­fer­ence. I don’t think my her­mit ways will change, but at least from time to time it’s good to know it was worth doing.

    We are lead­ers, Lauren. Some­times we have to choose between express­ing our imme­di­ate reac­tions and being sure the fol­low-on effects are desir­able, but oth­er than that, blogs are a mode with vitality.

    The little blogs? Well, authen­ti­city peeks out even from a dis­tance. Because as writers we’ve honed our skills so well, we can lose that eas­ily, but I do remem­ber the com­ment someone made in DC at the XML con­fer­ence you invited me to attend. The fel­low sat quietly while I was talk­ing to New­comb, then intro­duced him­self. He was someone from XML-Dev that I had cor­res­pon­ded with and the first thing he said is, “You really DO talk like you write.” I’m not sure if that was a com­pli­ment but it is authentic. 😉

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