Pointer to article:
I agree with Coursey’s thesis, but that’s beside the point.
I don’t quite care whether the blogging phenomenon goes the way of the CB radio. I don’t care whether blogging is all that different from other media. I don’t care whether my blog is looked upon as a self-indulgent vanity press-cum-diary. I don’t care whether people see my blog as flaky, pretentious, boring, ponderous, verbose, or mysterious. I don’t care whether anybody in particular is reading my blog. I don’t care whether anybody else sees any rhyme or reason to the motley assortment of topics and thoughts I post to this space. I don’t care whether I ever monetize or otherwise make a living from my blog. I don’t care if I get lost and ignored in the vast blogosphere. I don’t care whether blogging makes me hip or more deeply brands me as the nerd I’ve always been. I don’t care whether my blog is successful in any way at shaping or swaying minds and hearts. I don't care if you think I'm blogging to hear myself blog. And I don’t care if my blog posts are too long for the short attention spans out there.
I’m not doing this for out there. I’m doing this for in here. I just need an outlet for my ideas. Anybody who's ever known me should know by now that I live to create and spread ideas drawn from research and continual cogitation. I’ve been so accustomed for so long to having my well-crafted thoughts and words go plop in the void, that blogging for me is just more of the same ol same ol. I'm so used to being misconstrued that I need one place where the construing is all pure me. Where it's all me, only me, all the time, straight and direct, thinking whole thoughts and inscribing them in some sorta persistent medium in the public world.
And that’s fine with me. I blog simply to show that I’m still present and still paying attention. And still disseminating.