I keep reading these articles across a wide array of outlets all proclaiming that blogging has become as antiquated as …well, still buying compact discs, a notion lent further credibility by the folding of some of my favorite blogs like This Ain't the Summer of Love and, rumor has it, Stupefaction. Sure, the advent and subsequent ubiquity of social media of varying stripes has possibly stolen the novelty and thunder of blogging, but I still find it a viable means of expressing and disseminating information. But, then, I would, wouldn’t I? And, of course, I still buy compact discs unreservedly. This is my lawn. Get off of it.
The assertion that blogging has become passé could not possibly mean less to me. That blogging was ever cool, hip, fashionable, of the moment or in vogue to begin with was never the reason I got into it. As I remarked not too long back, I only started blogging as something of a lark, but it swiftly became a valuable outlet for me. When I first started this blog, I was already writing in a freelance capacity for a few outlets (most fondly the “Goings On About Town” section of The New Yorker), but Flaming Pablum gave me the freedom to write about whatever I wanted and at whatever length. It also has served to keep my chops sharp — although I shudder to think what a competent copy editor would have to say about that.
But even if my posts are rife with myriad typos and grammatical gaffes, from what I can surmise, I’m still getting a relatively healthy amount of page views on your average day. I realize it’s probably an infinitesimally small number compared to the big boys, but I’m still pretty amazed by it.
Even if my daily readership was only a fraction of what it is, I doubt that would stop me from continuing to post here. Ultimately, I do it as much for my own enjoyment and edification as anyone else’s.
That all said, if you no longer have time to visit blogs like mine, because you’re too busy snapchatting a “The Walking Dead” homage or tweeting about Lamar Odom’s erectile dysfunction or streaming the new bullshit by Drake, then I’m more than happy to lose you as a reader.
Personally speaking, barring further, disquietingly regular real-life emergencies and/or idiotic blunders for which I have no one but myself to blame (I can't get into either of those), I see no real reason to kill off Flaming Pablum just yet.
Sorry to disappoint you.
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