falling is fun
right up until you hit the sidewalk
— the prophet ani
Longtime readers will recall I started margarine a little less than nine years ago. It was just a low-key diary sort of thing, a chronicle of my running and life with Mo and observations of the demise of journalism and the Chocolate Frosty. Mostly, I write because writing is what I do. It’s not really important if anyone reads it.
I’m a shy person. I don’t do well in real life. I can’t make eye contact and on a good day can muster only the faintest of awkward sideways hugs. But the blog is my own little world. I can laugh and cry and tell secrets and write in iambic pentameter. I’m not sure what iambic pentameter is, but if I have the hankering, this is the place.
Over the years, I wondered what it would be like if people actually read what I wrote. I ventured onto social media and a joint where runners can post their blogs. More people were suckered in, I suppose. But what’s the point?
I increasingly realize that social media is evil. Facebook and Twitter don’t have our best interests at heart. They are devised to suck you into a dark hole as a way of making money and manipulating our minds. Which I suppose is good for them, but for the rest of us not so much.
And at the running blog site, I was just forcing people to read. What the hell is this, I could sense the community musing. That’s the thing about places like that. People aren’t reading because they want to; they’re reading because you’ve trapped them.
When I mentioned they could always find me here, there was much resistance. Too much work. Don’t have time to call up individual blogs.
And I realized: Maybe that’s a good thing.
Do I want to be part of a community with a billion people? Why would a card-carrying antisocial (the card is actually an Amazon gift certificate, but you get the idea) want to be part of a club that contains a billion people? Do I want an audience of people who can’t be bothered to make two clicks to a blog site?
When I first started margarine nine years ago, I had maybe five readers. Nine years of hilarity, heart-wrenching honesty and brilliant insights later, I have maybe five readers. And that’s perfect.
If you’re here, it’s because you want to be. Or you got suckered in by a google search. Or maybe you really DO like margarine and feel tricked by the relative dearth of butter-related musings. Sorry.
Do I miss the peeps on Facebook and Twitter? Sure. Do I miss the constant political bombardment and manipulative efforts to drag me further into addiction? Not at all.
I’m here. Sad you won’t be at our other hang out (not that I’ve been there much myself).
I would like to like this but now I only have 3 friends on facebook – so it makes me sad. Glad this isn’t the Swan Dive for ilikemargarine!
I think the 2 clicks are worth it.