I have no friends. Or something like that.
Apparently (see comments on the previous post), I have been nominated for “Friendless Site of the Week,” by a Canadian called Carol on the basis that I have “less [sic] that five comments/post.”
Well. I got something to say about that. I would have more to say but I am nice to Canadians on principle. I like them on the whole and they suffer a great deal by being mistaken for USAians. It’s not their fault. However.
One: it’s fewer, not less. If something is countable, the proper term is fewer. This gets to me in supermarkets (except Marks and Spencers) all the time: Five Items or Less. Aaargh. It’s not less, it’s fewer, you food-selling fools.
Two: She advised me to “calm down.” Calm. Down. Pretty much anyone who knows me even a little knows that if you tell me to calm down you better be ready to duck and cover. And then run like your arse was on fire and you’re headed to the duck pond to extinguish it. Now, I certainly didn’t expect a Canadian Carol to know this, so I won’t be aiming my super photon death ray in her direction, but you (all) have been warned. However calm I am is exactly how calm I intend to be in the circumstances.
Three: The correlation between comments and friends is an interesting bloggy phenomenon. Comments somehow prove your worth as a blogger, your presence, even your existence. Who cares what you’re writing if only half a dozen people are reading it? Therefore, bloggers are comment whores. They long for comments because comments prove they are not being ignored, that they have value. It’s like the strokes people give and get in the office — Hey Mike, how are you? Great, Carol, how are you? How’re the kids? They’re peachy keen, thanks Mike. This suggests that your success as a blogger is dependent on the size of your audience.
This is probably connected to the immense and insane value we place on celebrity in this society. Actors, politicians, some writers and “personalities” are idolized simply because they are known, not because they are necessarily wiser, wittier or prettier than your neighbor Talullah or your Uncle Bob. Recognition creates stature.
This is wrong. You are wise, witty and pretty (or stupid and ugly) no matter who is looking at you. A mother who is terribly clever with bits of paper and string might never get a spot on Blue Peter, might never receive fan mail, but will have several very happy and well entertained children. Does that diminish her talent? Does that lessen her value?
All sorts of people comment (intermittently) on this blog who are certainly friendly and who might be friends in the fullness of time, but are, for the moment, more like blog-companions. I am glad to hear their thoughts and glad they read mine. I also have friends who don’t read this, or who (if they do) don’t comment because they are not part of this weird comment/stroking/blogger world. I don’t really care.
If one day the world suddenly recognizes my bloggy genius and beats a bloggy path to my bloggy door, then fine. It will not make me more loved or more befriended than I am.
Oh, and although I got nominated, I didn’t in fact win. Which is good, I think. Or bad. I’m not sure I really care. Comments?
Thank you for this post. I, myself, have been caught up in the Bloggy Blog consumerate insanity. I have forgotten the point of my blogging: to be creative for myself, not for the needs of others.
I appreciate your frankness. Bullocks to popularity! I wasn’t that way in high school and managed just fine. Why should it matter now?
Stunt Mother:
I thought your blog needed to be acknowledged. There are many people that need that. It is natural, I think.
It shows a strong sense of self not to need attention but it sounds like you might have that. Good for you, Stunt Mother! I never know if I have to duck and cover but I appreciated your response.
I hope you continue to have fun.
Canadian Carol
ya i would have just thought it was a way to get newer bloggers noticed. but perhaps the title of the thing could have been less offensive. sort of insulting, really.
i like your writing style and enjoyed my visit via michele’s meeter greeter weekender affair.
An irritated blogger once wrote to me and wanted to know why I was “haunting” her blog and not leaving comments. My blog visits are frequent yet brief and I have a happy clicker finger and inadvertently close and then need to re-open windows. I do not know if “haunting” is a blogging faux pas but as the word “haunting” made me feel like a blogger stalker instead of a friendly blog reader, I left no comment and ceased reading the blog. If I comment on fewer entries am I less of a blogger?
Well that’s just it, isn’t it? There does seem to be some sort of bloggy code that governs one’s bloggy behavior, but other than not being mean to people (which seems sort of intuitive) the code is a bit mysterious. Why not lurk and read people’s blogs without commenting? Isn’t being read the point of writing a blog? Is it really so much about getting feedback? It isn’t to me, although I enjoy the dialogue that comments create.
Whatever someone wants out of creating an online journal however, I still feel like we ought to blog and let blog, like we live and let live. There are different people out there living and blogging in different ways and all ways should be okay.
V. happy to see you here, though Maggie.
I’m a new member of Carol’s band. This comment means nothing really. Please don’t read anything into it.
Why does it mean nothing? What should I (or shouldn’t I) read into it? Why are you running away so quickly? Is that a flute you’re carrying? Why do I have to type in word verifications on my own blog? What is the meaning of life the universe and everything?
Stuntmother:
I’m developing a new theory of humanism and relationism to God, the Universe, and Everything through a study of blogging behavior and the impacts therein.
There IS an alternate universe out there, and it is Blogland.
Thanks for dropping by. And thanks for commenting. Tho I rather like the idea of someone reading and not commenting…it must be the way a published author feels. Who are the faces on the other side of the page?