Ask Ty...November 15 [Blogging]

It must be Tuesday Monday, Middlespace Cadets, because I'm answering your questions
Q: Dear Ty,

Your blog called and said that it feels ignored. You haven't been posting many photos lately. And it's been so long since you've posted any writing on it. It's beginning to think that you're blogging somewhere else. What's up with that?


Ty: Good question and an even better observation, Sam. I just called my blog into an emergency meeting and asked it to explain itself. My blog says that it feels as if it is performing its job as well as it should.  In fact, my blog feels as if it's doing an excellent job at, you know, "blogging." My blog says that some people complain that it is too productive and too competitive sometimes; that people cannot keep up. My blog says that it's not trying to be like the other blogs and post mopey anecdotes of mundane existences. My blog insists that it has a plan and a formula and a method. But because you asked Ask Ty..., I pushed back fairly hard on my blog, but my blog is sensitive so I always have to be careful.

My blog says that it's only taken a single day off in ages. My blog says it has been churning output since 2002 and has posted over 6,100 times. My blog insists it has been a team player, a change agent, and champion for thought and insight. I could only look downward at my blog over my reading glasses and ask, "really?"

My blog says that it'll give you something to cry about.

Then my blog got all super defensive and started pointing to other people's blogs and art and pointing out that its productivity is far and away superior in terms of quantity and quality. My blog was all, "That's bullshit, man! The fuck you think I do, type about cab rides and breakfast foods? Nobody's shitty blog can hold a candle to me." It got pretty ugly and I had to do all I could to cool my blog out some. So, Sam, I told my blog that we'd continue this conversation some other time hoping that clearer heads would, you know, prevail.

Then a little while later when I was back at my desk eating the usual turkey sandwich for lunch my assistant, Corey, handed me this note:
What the hell do you want or expect from a goddamn Web log? Do I not provide for you each and every moment of my life? What on earth could you even expect from me at this point? Do you not think I'm trying to wreck this shit each and every day?
Seriously? You should feel fortunate to even be associated with this level of output. If it doesn't make sense to you, that's too fucking bad. I haven't been doing this for you anyhow. If it does resonate with you, just enjoy it and maybe comment sometime. But quit crying about shit.
Be warned, I'm going to do what I want to do, say what I want to say, and blog wherever I want to blog. I'm going to pursue what moves me. I'm going to lock my door and do what I do. And if you call me into another bullshit meeting I'm punching you in your mouth, OK?
-Your damn blog
Whoa, I told you my blog was sensitive. Now I did it. How dare I question my blog? I know hardly anyone is "blogging" anymore but my blog's been quite reliable and true, historically. Oof! I'll have to see if we can work this out and move forward happily, safely, and intelligently. I mean, my blog is really my only vehicle to express what's moving across my desk, Sam.

I know Corey and my blog talk so now I'm walking on eggshells around here. Thanks alot, Sam. Now I have to douse this fire. What a mess!

Just a guess,