Alright children, gather round because Uncle ACW is going to tell you a story. But don’t gather too close because the mean old judge said I had to stay at least 10 feet away from all minors after the “pudding catapult” incident. There you go. Now settle down, and listen up.
A long long time ago a magical wizard lived in some sort of house or something somewhere. Let’s say a split-level two-bedroom in the suburbs. Whatever. Anyway, this wizard invents a magical device for people to share information about what they find interesting, and he decides to call it a blog for some reason. Maybe he was an idiot. I don’t know. Shut up. Initially blogs weren’t very popular, because the Crazy Cat Ladies of Eastern Bonkersville dominated the blogs. Slowly but surely other people added their own blogs, and they became a rich tapestry of varied interests. Anyone could learn more about seemingly random strangers from all over the world, and suddenly, everyone had a blog.
Slowly things started to go bad, but it was almost imperceptible. Blogationistratas, as the blogsite owners were known, felt pressure from readers and other blogationistratas to update their blogs with new posts as frequently as possible, so the blogs eventually reverted back to the content of the Crazy Cat Ladies, or worse! Some blogationistratas resorted to hackneyed writing devices like storytelling because the only thing they had going on in their lives was staining their deck and replacing a failing starter on their 1996 POS Tercel, and they couldn’t find a way to make a funny or interesting story out of that.
Eventually all blogs became monuments to tedium and monotony as blogationistratas became too lazy to even create nonsensical non-posts as a way to explain the lack of new content. The days and years that followed that period were marked by posts that described in infinitesimal detail mundane acts like walking, chewing, and brushing teeth.
Eventually the spell was broken, because I guess a bad spell was cast at some point or something, and interesting content flowed forth once more, because maybe the witch or wizard or troll or whatever that cast the spell was killed and that’s what broke the spell. I don’t even care. But anyway the point is everybody agreed that the boring stuff was at least as good as, if not only slightly worse than, reading nothing.
