Bla Bla Blog
As if we didn’t have enough blogs on the Internet — 200 million and counting — here is yet another contender. If you care to waste some precious moments of your life on the verbiage of yet another opinionated blowhard, tuck into it. To add insult to injury, this blog features its author’s poetry, thereby demonstrating the most self-indulgent of all acts on the Internet, next to uploading amateur porn. If I were not writing it, I would not be reading a word of this shameless shuck and jive.
I wonder if I can initiate a new genre, the anti-blog? I guess that’s impossible, because even a blog dedicated to protesting against blogs would still be a blog. A blog is a blog is a blog. A blog by any other name would smell as rank. Obviously, I detest blogs. BLA BLA BLOG.
Having said that, I must admit that I am vaguely enjoying the exercise of this blog. So far. Which is to say, two weeks into it. I set out against strong reservations, but I find it’s not such an ordeal after all. For some odd reason, I don’t (yet) feel like a rabid narcissist inflicting my ideas on the world in a blatant spectacle of self-importance. How long will I be able to stand myself and put up with this insufferable, self-serving verbosity loaded with mystical pretenses.? We’ll see about that.
My primary concern is not how to make the blog interesting to anyone else out there, but how to keep myself interested. I also can bore myself, but I do not have one second of life to waste in that way. So that will be my standard for the writing in Kali Rising: first, not to bore myself, and then… and then… and then… who knows?
It is interesting that you use bla bla in the title of this page because every time I think of poetry I am reminded of a Gary Larson (The Far Side) cartoon of a man yelling at his dog.
The first frame shows a man pointing his finger at his dog and saying “Okay Ginger, you’ve had it! Stay out of the garbage! Understand, Ginger? Stay out of the garbage or else!”
The second frame shows what the dog hears which is “Blah Ginger blah blah blah blah blah blah Ginger blah blah blah”. (blah being an alternate spelling of bla).
This is how my poor addled brain reacts to poetry. Although my understanding would be higher than Ginger’s because I understand the individual words, the flow of them together still would leave me none the wiser.
That having been said I think that there will be many people who don’t suffer from my poetry aphasia and will doubtless enjoy your self-indulgent bla-ther.