Blogging turns twenty-one this year. Yes, that’s right, in America, blogging will finally be able to drink, even though it’s been doing it for ages in other countries around the world. And what a party that will be. I wonder if Facebook or Twitter will be invited? They’re probably still too young and I’ve yet to work out if blogging actually likes them or if they just hang around together because of the incidental benefits.
For a while there, everyone seemed to believe that blogging wasn’t likely to make it beyond its teens. Google had shut down Reader while lying through their teeth about the reason (just admit it wasn’t making you enough money and be done with it, Google), newer social media such as Twitter and Instagram were on the rise and the wonderful ease of being able to ‘like’ something without actually needing to go to the effort of saying so was becoming more popular than an unguarded slice of maasdam cheese in my kitchen. In short, everyone seemed to believe blogging’s time had come and gone.
Everyone, that is, except the bloggers.
But why do we blog? And why do we keep reading blogs? Why does the idea of committing ten minutes to reading and commenting on a blog post have equal, or even superior, appeal to scrolling through a bunch of images or snippets of text and ‘liking’ them with a tap of the finger?
I can only answer for myself, unless I want to a) be incredibly presumptuous, or, b) claim to have scary psychic powers that watch you while you sleep.
For me, the appeal of the blog is the way it speaks to my inner stalker and insatiable sense of curiosity (a curiosity that often borders on extreme nosiness). Thanks to blogs, I can peek into other people’s lives through the words they write and the images they share. I can read about people living the retro life, about people sewing amazing garments, or even about people following the dream of the simple life in the country. Even better, I can engage with them (which certainly removes the taint of stalkerdom). I can leave comments. I can take part in conversations. I can invite them back to my (bloggish) place for a bit of a ramble and a random photo of one of my cats.
I write my own blog because I want to share my adventures in return and because at least one of my cats secretly desires domination of the interwebs. Life doesn’t feel right if I’m not writing or taking silly photos of my adventures to share on my blog, which has been going in one way or another since the last day of 2003. That’s a crazy long time to have committed to something, so I’m not about to give it up now. Besides, it’s a ridiculous amount of fun and, as previously implied, provides me with an excellent excuse for taking many a silly photo.
Those are my reasons, but what are yours? Tell me in the comments: Why do you blog? Or why do you read blogs? What do you like best about this blogging lark?