Once again I find myself having to defend the noble and erudite art of ‘blogging. It might well be linked with an insecurity on the matter but there were two incidents over the days of this weekend just past that reminded me that it is important to go beyond post number 200. On Saturday, Ms 73man and I went a-visiting (’tis Christmas) to the house of a work colleague of hers who lives in Dublin city centre. All was fine and dandy and wine and cake was had. Another visitor said that she was surprised how they had not clamped down on her web access at work because she was able to read ‘blogs whenever she liked, including Twenty Major’s which tends to contain the cnut word quite a bit. That’s the attraction really. The carefully-placed use of the word combined with an observance of public hypocrisy as well as general tomfoolery makes for good ‘blogging.
Anyway….I let slip that I too blog. (Actually I dropped it right in there to fish for a compliment.) The other visitor asked me what I write under and I told her. “oh you are 73man!” I was both thrilled and scared at the discovery that I had unexpectedly bumped into a reader. Scared? Because she was an unknown reader who might actually think I was a shallow, pretentious type who had little else to do first thing in the morning. But I was also happy at the slightest hint of recognition, unaccompanied as it was (as Ms 73man was keen to point out later) by a general or particular compliment. I hastily grabbed the glass of wine in front of me and dramatically swigged back the contents as if the spirit of some dead author had taken hold of me.
On Sunday, I went to watch Sky’s Grand Sham Sunday up at Celticbhoy’s apartment. Filled with fried meat and red sauce (fnic fnic) we lay prone on his couch gorging ourselves on the exaggerated claims of Sky Sports’ss’s’ presenters. Do they know how to make two football matches seem like a major life-event even if they haven’t already secured the ability to schedule these things through their large budgets??! God damn, he’d already bought the package, why do we now have to sit through five more minutes of circling camera shots of empty stadiums intercut with cheering north London children waving scarves? Anyway….half way through the feast of football (Callie Thistle v Celtic was actually a better game btw) Celticbhoy insisted on taking me to task on ‘blogging:
It’s a way for middle class rich kids to mouth off about things that no one else has an interest in. I mean, what about the vast majority of the world who has no access to these resources? Would they ‘blog if they could?
Aside from the fact that he was just trying to rise me, I couldn’t resist. Sure, blogging is a rich person’s game. Sure, there are plenty more important things in the world. This is our material reality though and if the same logic were applied then I shouldn’t vote, or march on demos or attend public meetings? This is a curious guilt-mongering I thought to myself. Because no one else has it, we shouldn’t have it either. Of course you know I only do it to get random recognition from friends of colleagues of my girlfriend who share most of my own political beliefs but who’s to say that isn’t valid?