picsel.ro/b sau „Ridic sprânceana”

There are, accor­ding to blog wat­chers Technorati, at least 57 mil­lion blogs already out there with new ones arri­ving on the Web at a rate of some 15,000 a day. Which means that you might just as well set sail in search of an eighth con­ti­nent as try to find a sphere of human acti­vity unchar­te­red in the blo­gos­phere. Perhaps you tho­u­ght you could write the world’s dul­lest blog? Well, it’s already been done, with entries inclu­ding the likes of, “Some pen­cils were scat­te­red aro­und on my desk. I pic­ked them up one by one. I pla­ced the pen­cils in the dra­wer which I use to store pen­cils.” All of which lea­ves just one thing left to write about that hasn’t been done already: you (assu­ming of course you are a non-​​entity unwor­thy of your own page on Wikipedia). A blog is basi­ca­lly a vanity pro­ject. If you think the rest of the world is inte­res­ted in hea­ring about your col­lec­tion of Ottoman porce­lain or why “The Catcher in the Rye” is the great American novel (yawn) you rea­lly do need an ego the size of a house.

So you’ve set up your blog and you’re sit­ting at your com­pu­ter, fin­gers poi­sed to impart your wis­dom and humor to the world. Most blo­ggers will cho­ose some­thing very spe­ci­fic and stick dogge­dly to their sub­ject, howe­ver much of a niche area it may be. But that doesn’t mean your wri­ting has to be dull — in fact the more con­tro­versy and per­so­na­lity you can inject into it the bet­ter. The blogger’s job is to pro­vide gos­sip, con­spi­racy the­o­ri­zing, innu­endo, scan­dal and opi­nion uninhi­bi­ted by the main­stream media’s old-​​fashioned reli­ance on sub­stan­ti­a­ted fact. Some say the god­fa­ther of blo­gging was the late Hunter S. Thompson, a wri­ter who never let truth or cla­rity stand in the way of a good story. Starting an argu­ment is also the qui­c­kest way to boost your hits — and wri­ting a blog without pos­ting any com­ments from angry and offen­ded anta­go­nists is like trying to have a row with yourself.