Are there people out there who actually spend their time repeatedly hitting the "next blog" button on the navigation bar browsing other people's blogs? In the last 5 minutes alone I've gotten two referrals from random blogs, which can only be accounted for by someone hitting the "next blog" button. Why is there is a "next blog" button? Do people use it? I mean, do I really care what some random person in Georgia (the country, probably) has to say about the time they went to visit their parents? (pub -- some people take a human interest approach to blogs. You should consider adopting a similar approach to life in general) What's the likelihood of finding someone with something insightful to say by chance? (pub -- touche!) That's why blogs are all about connections and word of mouth, or link rather. And that's why I strive to make sure this blog lives up to the high KrisKraus standard.
Originally published 12/16/06
2 comments:
Hi Adam,
Obviously I'm one of those poeple who actually hit "next blog" to be reading yours. And it did cross my mind every so often that why I am wasting my time browsing random blogs. I guess partly because I'm sick at home and bored, but partly because it feels like peeking into other people' lives. Some of the blogs are so boring I passed by them as soon as I fass by a bad window display of a shopping mall. But yours I like. I like the way you write and the way you think. So go on and continue to dazzle us!
I went to visit my parents last week. Sorry I didn't blog about it earlier, loyal comrade readers! Anyway, as you know, my parents live in the northwestern province of South Ossetia. I had to pass through three checkpoints getting there. Supposedly, there is a civil war going on, but really it is just Russian soldiers from Vladimir Putin refusing to let Georgians live in their own country.
My old russian car broke down on the way to my parents' village, but luckily I was able to take a ride with some Georgians I met on the road. We shared the bread I had brought from home, and talked about the Georgian villages in South Ossetia. There have come some noises from the fake government in Tshkinvali. Everyone is very nervous.
In the evening, my new friends let me off at my parents place. The store underneath their house had the glass front all broken up and everything was in disorder. For a moment, I was very scared. But then my old mother came down the stairs and told me that they were both okay. We three had tea and talked about the old days. It was very good.
Bye bye!
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