Someday, when you’re not chiseling every well-conceived word of the Angry Czeck to your brain and assorted organs, click on that button you see located at the top right-hand corner of the page. The one that reads NEXT BLOG. You’ll receive a brief but penetrating peek at the universe. Just make sure you’re in a secluded location. Because you will scream.
You will find that millions upon millions of people have Sputnicked themselves into the blogosphere, hurtling across the horizon of the Earth, out-of-control and without purpose. Scrolling through this cosmos, I discovered a society desperate to communicate something, anything. The collective reasoning seems to be that if one’s personal words are digitized and publicized, the marrow of life will taste less like a burning Honda tire and more like the gas station beef jerky that was once promised.
Roughly 1 out of 3 bloggers muse. They don’t write shit down. They muse. Typically these musers describe their blogs as “random musings from a not so average forty-year-old housewife in Akron, Ohio.” What makes them “not so average” is that they muse. The rest of us might call it “mindless keyboard hacking” or “poorly conceived observations tethered to ellipses.”
Approximately 2 out of 5 bloggers are housewives. Each one is married to the same man, because all their profiles read, “…and I’m married to the best husband in the world!” (Blogging must be popular in Salt Lake City.) An average entry from one of these blogs generally begins with, “So, I took a thousand pictures of my baby yesterday, but I can’t figure out how to post them on my blog.”
Nearly 1 in every 10 blogs is dedicated to scrapbooking. The “Favorite Links” to these blogs should be “The M&M Warehouse,” “Box-O-Wine Mail Order,” and “The Official Nanny 9-11 Fan Club.”
About 1 out of 4 blogs provide personal insight to the Bible. I skip right by those.
The subject for 60% of all blogs is “….it’s all about me!” A surprising number of these blogs feature one post dated five to seven months ago.
One in 17 blogs is written by a gay man from Ohio. More precisely, “Not your typically gay man from Columbus, Ohio.” Many of these bloggers insist that they are refreshingly blunt and outrageously honest. Columbus sounds like a loud town. (NOTE: I was beginning to run out of topics for this post, so I randomly scrolled through Blogger.com for fresh material when I immediately discovered a blog featuring this profile: Your not so typical gay guy living in a hell hole we call Fresno! Working for an advertising agency… pondering the meaning of life…)
Three out of 7 blogs feature a single entry entitled “Test.”
9% of all blogs are sad attempts by junior high teachers to make their homework assignments more interesting for their students. You can bet that somewhere in Austin, Texas, an enterprising geometry teacher is announcing to his class, “If you cool-cats want to learn how to compute the longest side of an isosceles triangle for tonight’s homework…check out my blog!”
One half of all blogs are written in a language other than English. These can’t have anything important to reveal, because I can’t read them. (Dude, learn to type English.)
2 out of 13 blogs are vessels for publishing really terrible poetry. These tortured postings are delivered with the intent to attract that roguish, sparkly-eyed poetry publisher who’s on the lookout for raw, undiscovered talent. Granted, you will discover lots of rawness.
1% of blogs are clumsy traps set by the FBI. Generally, if the “Profile” of the blog author runs along the lines of “I’m a not-so-typical fourteen year old struggling to cope with my new large breasts,” then it’s best not to leave a comment on any of her posts. You follow?
41% of blogs offer witty commentary on a number of politically charged topics. Strangely, none of these blogs are titled, “Hey, I Watched The Daily Show Last Night!”
Hopefully, these statistics will help you better navigate the blogosphere. Though I’m sure the only blog you read is the Angry Czeck, provider of deeply original musings from a not-so-typical 14-year-old Czeck.