Jul 19, 2006
Why I Do Not Blog

PIGS, www.innerswine.com is not a Blog. Some people assume it is, mainly people who have never bothered to visit this web site and who assume all web sites run by hipster doofuses are Blogs, but it isn't. While there are these little essays from time to time, they're more like articles or essays—granted, bad, poorly conceived essays, but still—rather than the personal, brief posts of a Blog. The rest of the site is more or less static. I think there are sections of this web site that haven't changed at all since they were first slapped up on the web eight years ago. If the web could grow cobwebs, I'm sure they'd be infested by now. If you're ever wondering what Somers Humor was like in, say, 2000, all you have to do is check out some of these web pages. Though why you'd want to is anyone's guess.

Oh, hell, who am I fooling? Somers Humor in 2000 was pretty much what Somers Humor is today: Sadly lacking in actual humor.

Nope, this ain't a Blog, and it ain't gonna be any time soon. This has nothing against Blogs, really; I'm not one of those who turn their nose up at what all the Cool Kids are doing at any given time. I think Blogs are cool, and enjoy reading several. But Blogs require a personal involvement with your web site that I just don't have the energy level to deal with. People expect Blogs to be updated often, to tackle either personal issues or current events, and, in general, remain current. Forgetting to update your Blog for several months, for example, kind of demotes your site from a Blog to. . .something resembling www.innerswine.com.

And it'll never be a Blog, because I am lazy, ignorant, and pressed for time.

LAZY

The Inner Swine has never been a very ambitious publication. Well, maybe back in the prehistory days when Rob Gala was still involved, it had a little ambition, but as it has evolved there's precious little ambition left. All my ambition goes into schemes to get people to buy me drinks or ways to evade chores. Plus there's all the boozing. Combine boozing with a lot of shit to do, and what you have is no way in hell I'll ever update this web site on a constant basis. Right now I manage one or three updates a month, which is a nice, easy pace to take. Some Blogs I've seen update several times a day, sometimes with many chunky, deep posts. That would cut into my Whisky Time unacceptably.

This also means that I am no Randian Coffee Achiever—I hardly do anything, and what I do do is not very interesting. What, then, to post about? Does the world need posts about which sitting position makes my back ache, or the hell of warming beer bottles on a hot summer day? Hardly.

IGNORANT

I've explained my fundamental ignorance many times, and no amount of reading or contemplation seems to relieve it, which is distressing. Lacking an exciting, rich private life about which to blather, I could turn to the news every day. This won't work, of course, because I don't have any knowledge to offer on any subject. I could probably Blog about events from, say, 1985, because I'd be able to do some lazy reading on Wikipedia and more or less just regurgitate it all into the posts—except now with liquor jokes and extra pantslessness!

No, sadly, I spent my educational career working very hard at learning absolutely nothing. I was bizarrely proud of not attending classes, not reading books, and somehow cobbling together essays and reports that made just enough sense for an unspectacular GPA and eventual graduation. There were many classes I attended exactly twice: The very first class, and the final exam. I learned a pitiful amount during my school years, and now that I am older and somewhat wiser, I actually regret it. So while I try madly to catch up, I don't have anything pithy or interesting to say about current events, so there's really nothing for me to post about.

PRESSED

Despite my ignorance and lack of ambition, I am one busy motherfucker, kids. This is no mystery. The reasons are pretty clear:

1. Soul-sucking day job eats large chunks of my day
2. I am married, making me automatically my wife's Cabana Boy
3. I keep waking up hungover. No, seriously, this is a serious threat to productivity. Ask anyone.

As far as I know, no one wants me to start blogging about being sleepy, drunk, and working my day job. If I'm incorrect in this assumption, please feel free to correct me. I'd be very happy to receive thousands of emails begging me to drool every minor thought I have during the day onto this screen:

Monday: Woke up sweating, as usual. Have a bottle of Tito's Homemade Vodka in one hand, empty. Have a large ring of keys in the other. No pants, of course. Have no idea where the keys belong. Oh, my head. My fragile, fragile head. It is filled with tiny poisonous spiders, eating my brains.

Yeah, see: No one wants that.

So, no Blog for me. At least not any time soon. I doubt the world will weep for this missed opportunity to read the random thoughts I jot down desperately, needing constant content to keep up the illusion of value. Besides, I think the cobwebby nature of this web site is part of its charm. And you should click randomly on things, you know, just in case I've changed something without letting you know. You never know!

OK, you know. Shut up.