The Making of a Small Blogger


Looking through the blogs and odds and sods of the Chris White site I was sent back to my youth. Mr White is young and professional and has even studied the stars ( as in science not US politics of war). He studies in a place called Cardiff which is somewhere in Europe and somewhere where folk can still smell the death from the coal mines of South Wales. I will not say more because Cardiff is doing too well already with football. Damn them. But Chris White is talking about the difference between "Media Studies" and "journalism". Sent my head rolling. That was one making of a blogsite, this site. So many University types follow the factory path to a doctrate but this young and sprightly lad seemed, at least to me, to be searching for something more. Why does Chris White even want to get into this blogosphere? What the frigin hell am I doing here!!?? An awkward question to respond to. Try and give an answer and these awkward bloggers will quickly ( with a quack and a waddle and a quack) get you to sell your soul to the easiest bidder unless you "come clean with a smile and tongue in cheek". Why did Chris White begin to blog? I have no idea.

I began this bloglark because I like larks. At school flicking inkspots, from that deadly ink in the ink pots, was one way to get back at the creeps and informers. Whenever little teachers-pet would inform upon us ( as the likes of a New Labour in the UK actually want) we would flick our inky pens onto him or her. On the blog site by Yellow Duck there is a wonderful story by a person named Nell ( no not Sue and not a song). How do we get or take our blogsite names. Well for me I loved Zola. If you have to ask the question : who the hell is Zola then best start again from somewhere else or read a damned book. Ink Spots? You should see that now.

But there is ( always is and will be) so much more. I still lecture a few times and as long as students say OK I will always remain yapping about this or that. One fairly young professor, Juha Suoranta, teased me about my little ways with old fashioned things. Get into the "Wikiway", he said with a smile. Get into the blogs. Get into the brave new blogs that really matter. My turn to smile. But here I am. Judge Pentitent and showing my face and my arse to all at the same time. ( OK I know I should shave those short and curly ones - leave it off mate). But then another professorial gentleman gave me a real shot up the rear-end. He began to e-mail me. Damn it this was a guy who had never even mastered the typewriter. He used to get his aged mother of 70 years to type out his lectures. Now it was time for me to feel guilt. He was getting to me via e-mail. Metaphysical guilt? Could we call it that? Then a few old students kept contact and kept laughing at my redickulus techno social-skills.

Ah fuck it I said and thought. I needed social skills. So I have turned to blogging.

There you have it there it is.