My return to blogging has been remarked; ambivalence has been expressed.
Mrs. Stagger: I thought you were done with all that.
Me: Done with what?
Mrs. Stagger: You know what.
Me: You mean blogging?
Mrs. Stagger: No, I mean repainting the Sistine ceiling.
Mrs. Stagger: Of course I mean blogging.
Me: Well, I guess I decided I wasn’t quite entirely done.
Mrs. Stagger: You think the world really needs your blog?
Me: Maybe needs is a little strong.
Mrs. Stagger: I’ll say.
Me: But another voice can’t hurt. Another candle–
Mrs. Stagger: You’re not exactly Walter Cronkite, y’know.
Me: Well, I’m still alive, that’s true.
Mrs Stagger: There are a few other differences.
Me: Yeah, I admit as much. He was like this huge figure, dominating the globe.
Mrs. Stagger: Yes, that’s the way it was.
Me: Of continental proportions, if you will.
Mrs. Stagger: Nicely put.
Me: But we bloggers, we’re like–
Mrs. Stagger: Teensy little insignificant islands, that’s what you’re like.
Me: By ourselves we’re teensy, most of us anyway.
Mrs. Stagger: Uh huh, that’s for sure.
Me: But within the blogosphere, no blog is an island…
Mrs. Stagger: What?!
Me: Entire of itself; every blog is a piece of the continent…
Mrs. Stagger: Oh, please!
Me: A part of the main. Every blog is involved in mankind. And therefore…
Mrs. Stagger: Please stop.
Me: … never send to know for whom the blogger blogs…
Mrs. Stagger: Please.
Mrs. Stagger: I give up.
Me: … or she…
Mrs. Stagger: You’ve really lost it, you know that?
Me: … blogs for thee.