Sarah Morgan
People I know and adore have blogs. (See the first three links on the right.) People I don’t know and adore have blogs. (See the next three links on the right.) Members of Parliament have blogs. Where will it end? Should it? Is it a good thing, spreading candid and direct conversation? Is it disingenuous or just plain pointless? Is it a fad?
Plenty of things get overdone and spoiled. Reality television, David Spade, microwave popcorn, September 11th memorial charades. The next time I find out about something special, I think perhaps I’ll keep it to myself and not let the word get out so it will get too popular.
But then what would I talk about?
I heard Runaway Train by Soul Asylum tonight and it made me cry. Like immediate weeping. Complete, utter, PMS. But also, do you not remember that video? How incredibly sad was that video? All those missing children pictures scrolling through the whole song. Oooo. Every time I heard that song – back in my tortured years – isn’t everyone’s freshman year of high school fairly torturous? – I was torn between “my life is so utterly sad and this song Gets It so fully” and “wow, do I have it good, what am I whining about, boy do I feel guilty.” Tortured, I’m telling you.
