2005 called and told me I should start a blog. They’re not really a thing anymore, are they? Self-publishing went overnight from being derided to being almost compulsory for anyone who liked writing – and even those who didn’t. In the social media age, everyone’s voice had to be heard, everyone had to be on Twitter and in certain circles, not having your own blog was almost weird.
It felt like a natural follow on from the radio phone in, where broadcasters seemed to decide en masse, overnight, to abandon producing their own content and just rely on the listeners to call in with their views and experiences. Interactivity was the new buzz. International relations, politics and economics no longer required any more expertise than Big Brother or X Factor, all opinions were equally valid. The views of scientific experts on climate change were balanced against those of politicians. Doris from Darlington’s opinion mattered just as much as either.
I recall someone telling me that when in the US, they used to sit in their car listening to late night phone-ins. just for the utterly deranged views callers would express. As is often the case, the UK soon followed the US and brought you content from the masses and the mad opinions people might have expressed over a beer or six suddenly filled the airwaves. Then came social media, which started so full of promise, and descended into a tribal cesspit. Everyone can publish now, all views are valid. And oddly, public discourse is worse than I can ever remember. The information era has become the misinformation era: ‘alternative facts’, conspiracy theories and fake news compete on almost equal terms with the oft-derided ‘mainstream media’ for head space. Why add to this chaos with a blog almost nobody will read?
I did try, back in the day. I blogged throughout my wife’s pregnancy (sadly the demise of MySpace also saw the disappearance of the blog) and had a short-lived thing on the joys and otherwise of parenting a toddler. I wrote a bit about football. I took part in forums, I tweeted vociferously and got in pointless, unwinnable arguments about everything from Brexit to penalty decisions. I still sometimes do. But I’m a prevaricator, I have a busy day job, I can be a lazy arse. So I never got in to the routine of regular blog writing and it has now long ceased to be a thing in quite the same way. Not saying blogs don’t exist, they do in their millions, but they’re not exactly cutting edge these days, when seemingly everyone is now also a broadcaster and film maker. So I start this blog in the full knowledge that I am shouting into the void, and probably nobody is shouting back.
So why bother, I don’t hear you ask? Well, because I like writing. I like pontificating and sharing my own ultimately irrelevant takes with other people – come to that, I just like writing them down whether anyone reads them or not. This is probably another short-lived attempt to persuade myself to write every day, or every other day, or every week, or every so often. That’s the way these things have gone in the past. But there it is, I’m here and I’m blogging and there’s nothing anyone can do stop me. Go me.
Rory writes 