Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Of Making Many Blogs There Is No End

I'm at one of those points in my blogging where it seems that there's nothing I haven't written about. I have this compulsion about repeating myself, and hate to think that I'm just rehashing the same concepts over and over and over again, like that aging uncle who can't seem to stop himself from telling you the same story every single time you see him.

It isn't that there's no new stuff to talk about, but rather that I'm in one of those Ecclesiastes patches. There just doesn't seem to be a single new thing under the sun, and that sense of Solomonic fatigue is sitting heavy on my muse. The environment? The war? The struggle for meaning? It all seems too familiar, too rote, too straightforward. I read back through my blog archives, and can't seem to muster the energy to write. An idea will surface...and then suddenly, I realize that I've had some variant that idea before, and written about it before.

Perhaps it's my recent forays into the broader blogosphere. There, the pros and semi-pros jockey for attention, looking for the concepts that will drive the most traffic, linking and commenting and trying to wire themselves in for those precious visitors and the ensuing advertising. It seems less human than synaptic, less like the creative energy of thousands of souls and more like the aimless firings of neurons in a brain deep in the throes of a seizure.

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