Lynn was happy to spear a Facebook status in which I expressed some confusion as to why I’d get an Instalanche off a pretty mundane post. And that’s fine; it’s not like I’m such a Superior Being or anything, or even on the verge of becoming one.
Honestly, I don’t really care that much anymore. I started blogging with hopes of being Somebody in the blogging world — feeble hopes even then but, nevertheless, real hopes. But now I’m satisfied being in my own little universe. I can’t do politics because I don’t fit neatly into the Left-Right dichotomy so most people try to fit me into “the other side”, whichever side that happens to be for them. Some current events I would comment on but I never have anything particularly insightful to say. How many ways are there to say that a horrible disaster was a horrible disaster? And pop culture? Please. For the most part, I just really don’t want to know.
Then again, a manifestation of pop culture that actually turns into a horrible disaster — I’m looking at you, Miley — has, I believe, substantial potential as blogfodder in the right hands. Or maybe the left hands.
So, I’m not envious of Glenn Reynolds or the other A-list bloggers and I don’t crave their attention. (Okay, maybe I do, just a little bit) The bloggers I envy are those who get 15 to 25 comments on almost every post — little people like me but not as boring as me. But I do appreciate the few comments I do get and try to remind myself to be thankful for those and that quality is better than quantity.
On the off-chance that she intends to group me with the A-list, a place I’ve never actually been — back when N. Z. Bear was doing the Ecosystem, I managed to climb above “Large Mammal” status for about a week — I will now disclose my Number of Comments Per Post: two point eight. (Yes, really. Since the second week of September 2006, which is the first week in the WordPress database.) So there’s certainly no reason for me to be the object of anyone’s envy.
And besides, Lynn gets better trolls than I do.