Some thoughts on blogging this morning…
We write… but for whom?
A writer before his/her blog is somewhat like a teacher (it might be interesting to see who considers themselves authoritarian teachers and non-authoritarian teachers… and why, but we’ll not go there today) before an invisible class. We have information, perspectives and/or experiences to share… and people read. We know this because our “counters” tell us so. Yet, we can’t always “see” those who read. Occasionally, the readers reveal just a little more of themselves through comments, “likes”, “shares”, and even “ping-backs”, but the percentage of those who do these things is low when compared to the numbers the “counters” tell us are visiting.
It’s not, however, a real time classroom. It’s an timeless void… or at least as long as our content remains visible on the Web.
Considering the writing can exist within a timeless void, do you write for today alone, or will the content (at least some) be as timeless as the platform?
We write, but for what (“what” being not a “reason” but, for lack of another description, an inanimate device)
But, it’s not always about directly “teaching” people. It’s also about “teaching” the Web (at which time, an argument might be made that the “device” is not really “inanimate”).
The content that we deliver to the Web fills voids. Well, at least sometimes; other times it takes the same content and pitches it from a different angle. Does it fill voids where our perspectives are not present, or does it fill voids where, simply… the information (or the depth of information that we would like to see) is not present? Ah… the information population of the Web is ongoing. Then too, I suppose we could also say that the content fills voids within ourselves.
The problem, however, is that content is not infinitely weaved.
How deep then is the fabric of your writing?
The volume of content produced by some on the Web is massive. Hundreds and even thousands of blog posts are out there from many who have written, but… too often, the content exists only in a vacuum, unconnected to the many other posts that truly form the greater depth of the essence of the writer. True, we have a few hyperlinks in each post, but we cannot link it all together. Because it all cannot be connected, when a reader visits… reads and comments… it’s often a reflection of the limited content they have read in the blog, unless… unless… they are regular followers. In the case of the “splash-n-dash” comments, from those who only respond to a single post, have we failed as teachers, or has the reader failed as one who has not yet grasped the difference in reading for print and reading for the web?