Blogslogging
Without the people who comment on this here bloggityblog o' mine, I'd have no real consciousness of the Bloggersphere. I just don't make enough time to Blogger Surf. And there's good stuff out there. Like Rong Rong or the widely prolific EuroYank.
And yet I fret over my own content. WyW5 has been in existence now since early November, first on Livejournal, and now on Blogger, but still it's no more than a journal, a rainspout. Which I suppose is fine now. I doubt I'll ever be as intrepid as the online political blogger types, or the wildly artistic photo blogistes. Despite my lunging for fame, Stefush remains a pretty small enterprise. (Although I AM working on tee-shirt ideas as we speak for WyW5 - anyone out there savvy enough with graphics to pony up a logo or two will be richly rewarded).
I must be brave and attempt the arcane HTML hieroglyphs and learn Javascript and Flash. I must turn WyW5 into a multimedia, all-absorbing experience for the senses. It must become three-dimensional, a sanctuary for the absurd. It must be as knowable as any room in your home, and make you feel as welcome. This, and this alone, is the reason it exists.
Okay, that, and a babe magnet. Yes, that's it - a multimedia feast for the senses that also brings in the hotties by the palette-load. Is it wrong to want to be the first blogger with his own Cheerleaders?
You have to admit - When. You. Were. Five! has the proper cadence for a group of excitable young girls to chant on the sidelines of any major sporting event. They could follow me around to my public speaking engagements, giggling and fussing, and say things like "Oh Stefush, you so cra-zee!"
I could sit back, gesture vaguely with my snifter and respond "tut tut, ladies, that's all for now. Go and mingle..." And they'd all peel off and make themselves beautiful somewhere poolside or by the wide bay windows. Soon, they'd be getting offers from the major motion picture houses and television networks as the "Why Five" girls.
A recording deal reminiscent of the Spice Girls would be in the offing and then, one summer, years from now, When You Were Five would own the airwaves. Some jangly, sample-laden ditty would claw it's way to the top of the charts and provide the soundtrack to some addled teen's coming-of-age ritual. Sure, you'd hate that song, but you'd whistle it all day at work and in the bathroom and there'd be no stopping it.
Yeah, so I'll have that going for me. Which is nice.
And yet I fret over my own content. WyW5 has been in existence now since early November, first on Livejournal, and now on Blogger, but still it's no more than a journal, a rainspout. Which I suppose is fine now. I doubt I'll ever be as intrepid as the online political blogger types, or the wildly artistic photo blogistes. Despite my lunging for fame, Stefush remains a pretty small enterprise. (Although I AM working on tee-shirt ideas as we speak for WyW5 - anyone out there savvy enough with graphics to pony up a logo or two will be richly rewarded).
I must be brave and attempt the arcane HTML hieroglyphs and learn Javascript and Flash. I must turn WyW5 into a multimedia, all-absorbing experience for the senses. It must become three-dimensional, a sanctuary for the absurd. It must be as knowable as any room in your home, and make you feel as welcome. This, and this alone, is the reason it exists.
Okay, that, and a babe magnet. Yes, that's it - a multimedia feast for the senses that also brings in the hotties by the palette-load. Is it wrong to want to be the first blogger with his own Cheerleaders?
You have to admit - When. You. Were. Five! has the proper cadence for a group of excitable young girls to chant on the sidelines of any major sporting event. They could follow me around to my public speaking engagements, giggling and fussing, and say things like "Oh Stefush, you so cra-zee!"
I could sit back, gesture vaguely with my snifter and respond "tut tut, ladies, that's all for now. Go and mingle..." And they'd all peel off and make themselves beautiful somewhere poolside or by the wide bay windows. Soon, they'd be getting offers from the major motion picture houses and television networks as the "Why Five" girls.
A recording deal reminiscent of the Spice Girls would be in the offing and then, one summer, years from now, When You Were Five would own the airwaves. Some jangly, sample-laden ditty would claw it's way to the top of the charts and provide the soundtrack to some addled teen's coming-of-age ritual. Sure, you'd hate that song, but you'd whistle it all day at work and in the bathroom and there'd be no stopping it.
Yeah, so I'll have that going for me. Which is nice.
posted by Stefush at 7:42 AM
3 Comments:
realizing that black is white, and gray is red, and that the reality we perceive is not the reality that perceives us, that let's the inner child out.
I wish that would have happened years ago, because its a bitch playing with the grownups, so baby now comes out to play.
Oh yes.....the reality we perceive is not the reality that perceives us. Oh man, EuroYank is now elevated to Commander General Status.
Awesome.
thankyou fellow bloggers and remember ... "You are not what you eat, you are what Eats You." (What is the next rank now please?)
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