So Iranian President Ahmadinejad has a new blog and it works, in that "senile grandma in the attic" sort of way. But other than realizing how similar it sounds to Keith Olbermann, it dawned on me that when the elderly, squirrels and crazed dictators start having their own blogs, then blogging is dead.
The worst five words you can hear at a party is "have you read my blog?" Blogs, really, used be called diaries, hidden under the pillows by troubled twelve year old girls. They were usually covered with stickers of rainbows and unicorns (Oh I loved those unicorns). But now everyone has a diary, but they call them blogs and they're asking you to read them - it's disgusting. It's like pulling off a band-aid and saying - I made it myself!
I call it the Sylvia Plath Syndrome - the idea that every nuance of your life should endless fascinate everyone else. At least Plath at the decency to provide a killer ending.
And if you don't agree with me than you are worse than Hitler.