A Voice in the Dark

Today I had the nasty re-realisation that there are more than 70 million blogs in the world and that the chance of my blog hitting the celebrity list is as equal and therefore as minimal as that of any other blog.

In other words, we are all insignificant specs on the bum of the net.
Let that sink in for a moment. Anonymity really hurts.

Did you, for a moment, really think I was trying to setup my own private journal? That perhaps, I may be this solitary soul, who found contentment in reading her posts aloud to herself whenever she was bored or nostalgic? Of course not. As for every other blogger, I am trying to express myself, mark my name in history, bask in the glory of other bloggers and shamelessly indulge myself in self-enhancement strategies in order to prep up my self-esteem to a new healthy level.

And so this stinging truth about the spewing mass of posts that exists on the planet made me feel rather depressed. Not that I'm crying for attention or anything (well, ok, maybe just a little) but most of all, it made me realise how much shit actually reaches cyberspace.

My vague and presumptuous estimate is that out of the 70 million or so blogs, at least half of those are full of nonsensical ramblings (unlike this post, for example) and the other half is serious biographical or informative material. Further, only a small percentage of actually meaningful, informative posts would originate purely from the blogger's imagination rather than from plagiarised web articles and/or referenced information. Originality it seems, is not the blogger's forte. (Aside: this rampant plagiarism doesn't just extend to the world of blogs, I'm starting to suspect that some soft-news journalists are looking into posts for new material.)

Which brings me to the core of my tantrum...ahum...argument. Why does my blog have to compete with the million blogs that contain cut-and-pasted articles? Man, do you really want to waste cyberspace by re-posting Wikipedia or being the web-echo for Times magazine? Are you so afraid to post your own opinion? It's such a delight to read opinions no matter how extreme, to learn about a blogger's dirty little secrets, to dwell into their fears, their hopes and their faults. It's called being real. I'd like to think that the sheer number of real bloggers, with real posts has managed to eclipse my own into anonymity. But the notion that in fact, my blog is being eclipsed by a gaggle of never ending links and references is so undignified.

So yes, as a matter of fact, I am depressed. And you know what, I don't care anymore. I've had it. I'm going to start pasting quotes from Tolstoy and Shakespeare, then I'll make regular posts of copied recipes from Recipes.com and then I'll make you all suffer.