The Meh of Blogging [SAA Blog Carnival Post #2]

So, for December, we’ve been asked to comment on the good (beyond what was mentioned in November’s post), the bad (ditto for November), or the ugly about blogging. I kind of addressed most of this in the earlier post, and I don’t think I’ve been blogging enough, long enough, or intensely enough to have very passionate thoughts about what is good, bad, or ugly about it, so I’m going to answer this prompt in the most deliberately silly and asinine (nod to Hank Hill) way I possibly can.

The bad that bloggers deal with, apparently, revolves around being harassed by internet trolls. This strikes me as really odd, because the trolls I read about as a kid while living in Stavanger, Norway, did not seem to be particularly hostile during internet transactions, nor do Norwegian folk tales indicate that they are even computer literate or known to live in homes or apartments that are wifi-enabled.

By far the ugliest thing about blogging is the very way we talk about it. “I blog,” “my blog,” “blogging,” “blogger.” Even detached from the non-professional connotation that the words often carry within academic circles, the root word is utterly bereft of euphony, and its descendant terms and expressions inherit this disastrous lack. “Blog” sounds like something the cat is about to bring up on the kitchen floor, or the noise I make after one of my road warrior days for the Survey (drive four hours to spend another four hours shovel-testing a site before driving another two hours to visit a second site and then drive five hours back home). If we had to make a portmanteau of “web” and “log,” couldn’t we have gone with “weg?” It sounds like a malevolent Celtic spirit, which is way cooler (FYI, I hate “wifi” too).

I don’t really have anything for the “good” section. I’m running out of steam after a long day, and should probably be building a bunker and starting a small farm in the crawl space under the house, because if the weather reports are to be believed Arkansas is going to be turned into an ice-coated nightmare this weekend. I could probably run over to Walmart to do some last-minute hoarding/rioting, but I think I missed out when the cool people were doing it, and don’t want to seem like a poser-hoarder now, so I guess I’ll just go to bed [I wrote that as “hording” at first, which I guess is a lot harder as it involves armies of mounted Asian warriors, which I don’t think you can get at Walmart yet].

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