I don’t post here so much anymore. It’s not that my life has become (even) less interesting than it was. Living in Prague and Living with Cancer both generate stories, though the former are more fun to share. I still have thoughts I like to share, but often I don’t.
I remember when blog was fun. When some guy could write about Eggs Over Easy and be the top match on the search engines. Rightfully. Google would never, ever, let a blog like this be a top match now.
With that corporate favoritism, the stream of fun and interesting people who would stumble past and add their own quirky discussion in the comments — and sometimes even become regulars — slowly dried up. Gone are the days when an Izzy or Dr. Pants will happen by.
Those regulars, from Jerk McSweede to Squirrely Joe, built a community here. Not just a hanging-out place, but a utile one. Travel plans were synced. Family news was shared in the comments.
That community (or more realistically that Venn diagram of communities) moved to Facebook, which made it easy to build circles of friends. Then Facebook threw the curveball that to maintain those communities, you would have to pay. And even paying didn’t mean when you sent a message to your group that everyone would get it.
Facebook worked hard to give you the tools to build communities, then killed them.
There are big blog platforms now like Substack, but they are also poisoned by profit drive. You don’t stumble on a writer you like on Substack, you respond to marketing. And sure there are plenty of interesting people writing on those platforms (and even more absolutely reprehensible ones who bring the platform money by saying horrible shit). But money is the drive.
Money is the drive everywhere on the Internet now. Even though I pay for my own server, and cost nothing to anyone, Muddled Ramblings and Half-Baked Ideas does not generate revenue and therefore cannot share revenue with the handful of companies who decide what you see when you log in.
But I’m proud of this dang blog. I’d be amazed if it wasn’t in the top one-percentile of blogs by age. It’s easy for me to imagine circumstances when I start posting here more often. But until then just know that I am still here, and I am still thinking things. We have a pedophile for a president, after all.
