Strange things, are blogs

I was trying to figure out what to post for today, thinking maybe I'm not cut out for the three-a-week gig, getting ready to unfurl my white flag, maybe go into hiding for another few years. I didn't want to lay down something short and shallow and unsatisfying. I should be contributing my two cents to the political sphere right now - tis the season, after all, and I love me a juicy debate - but I couldn't drum up the enthusiasm to write anything more creative than, "Hey y'all, this is what I think. Done." And who wants to read that? That's like reading a survey titled What's Your Favorite Color?

(But I don't know. There's an entire show about what might be hidden in storage lockers, so perhaps I don't have a good read on cultural trends.)

So many topics I want to write about, so few that can be written well without some basic background research...

I began thinking about the nature of my blog, whether it's meant for me (a place to vent) or for an audience (a place to come find stuff worth reading.) Oh my, but the two are not the same.

And THAT got me reflecting on all the blogs I've ever stumbled on, and how the vast majority of them are about absolutely nothing. You know what I'm talking about? Baby announcements that end with three posts. Blogs that reblog blog posts from reblogged blogs. Whining. Scattered across the ether. Countless bits of pointlessness. Yet it's those sites, the sites that deliver the pointlessness in guises of humor and wit, that I keep going back to, not to the sites with thoughtful, informative essays. So I suppose I'm just as shallow as the worst of them, a kiddie pool at a toddler convention, excuse me while I go cancel my subscription to The Economist.

Once I realized this, I felt a great burden lifted. All these heavy topics I want to write about...and I will write about them...but I don't have to write about them today.

And while I was thinking all the aforementioned, I had been doodling, because my mind thinks best when my hands are busy. I doodled a picture of myself thinking, but I got my thoughts all cross-wired with a "Drawing Hair" tutorial I just read, and didn't feel like erasing my construction lines or particularly making much of an effort, and didn't know quite what to do with my hair, then realized I could do anything the hackensack I wanted to do with my hair, and with this post, sure, the world at my beck and call...

So I made you a drawing of me thinking about thinking while my hair goes off into dinosaurs and Teddy Roosevelt. I'll bet no one has ever said that in a sentence before.



That, dear readers, is how you ended up with a post about absolutely nothing. Only quality stuff here at Fifteen Feet, yessir.