Just What the World Needs
There are two things I can say with certainty that I absolutely hate: blogs and hypocrisy. These aren’t simple or common displeasures like the uncut crust on a sandwich or drivers who switch lanes without signaling. My hate for blogs and hypocrites are deep-seated, considerate and probably a little irrational. Hypocrites and blogging as two sides of the same coin; both offering a glimpse at the perils of 21st century humanity.
I have long believed that blogs were a colossal waste. They allowed for the misplacement of a writer’s energy and talent (write a book!), a misguided use of a reader’s time (read a book!), and a complete misutilization of the endless, more enjoyable, opportunities the Internet provides. I have personally found something slightly narcissistic about personal blogs in particular. The arduous labor bloggers must perform is a bit off putting. These writers must first carve out their own small pedestal, slowly chipping away at the digital mound to make a place to claim as their own. They then must bring themselves to their feet and step onto their platform hoping to be greeted by eager, curious spectators. While their blogs aren’t just for them, they’re always about them. They captivate their audience by divulging the most personal and the most intimate. Their revelations aren’t memorable or inspiring enough to wield the power published autobiographies and memoirs or works of fiction have had on other generations. Plainly put, blogs serve or benefit no one but the blogger… What’s more 21st century than that kind of staunch self-interest?
Now, my hate for hypocrites is much more straightforward. They lack a degree of self-awareness that is baffling and infuriating, making them one of the most insufferable people to be around. While bloggers are dedicated to introspection and their own reflection, hypocrites are too distracted by the behavior of others to interrogate or contemplate their own sanctimonious ways.
Until now, I have done my best to avoid hypocrites and blogs. But the urge became too strong and I too weak. I finally have given in. When I hit ‘publish’ and this post becomes available to the world, I will be a blogger and by default a hypocrite. My face will be on both sides of that proverbial coin. I am now the person who, in any other circumstance, would receive a deserved roll of the eyes and a hearty scoff. I have written this post to mark, with much contempt, my birth as the two things I most despise.
While it was difficult and painstaking to take the leap and start this blog, it was easy to think of all the things I could shout from my own pedestal. We all think of our lives as interesting and our stories and experiences worthy of an audience. Sadly, I am no different. But what separates me from the masses is a simple fact: my life is interesting and my experiences and stories are worthy of an audience. More pointedly, I think what makes me interesting and mildly captivating can be traced back, not to my own parents, but to my maternal Grandmother.
My Grandmother is my favorite person. She is undoubtedly a gem that has yet to be mined or publically appraised. Though the magnitude of her life could never be contained and displayed in a few silly blog posts, I thought it could serve as a start or a step to something meaningful. This blog will be exclusively about my Grandmother. At least for now. It won’t be about me but it will be for me. It will be a place for me to record and dissect her journey. To see how the choices she made when she was 20, 30, 40 years old, have reverberated through decades to reach me. I still strongly and stubbornly believe this medium still has no value for writers or readers and will hopefully be obsolete by the time I bring children into the world. However, I also believe with my Grandmother at the center and us together as spectators, this small, silly endeavor will become as memorable and inspiring as her life.
