Well, I ran across a September '03 blog entry from William Gibson that made me think. He says that he's found "blogging to be a low-impact activity, mildly narcotic and mostly quite convivial." I'm with him there, although "convivial" would require that people who visit leave comments so that I can be in touch with them -- but never mind. I'm not William Gibson. It's convivial enough.
But then he goes on: what blogging really does for him is remind him that he's not writing. And he wants to go back to writing. So he's abandoning his blog. Here's the best part:
The bits and pieces that Joseph Cornell assembled in his shadow-boxes wouldn't have seemed nearly as interesting if he'd simply left them arrayed on the bench of some picnic-table –- and they certainly wouldn't still be there.
I crave the sweet and crazy-making difficulties that can only be imposed by the box, the Cornellian stage, the frame, of a formal narrative.
So he exits, saying he won't be blogging again.
I've seen those Joseph Cornell boxes, two years ago in a Surrealism exhibit in a faraway museum (in what now feels like a very faraway time). Here's one. Cornell worked over these boxes for years, going from his narrow cold home to flea markets to gather materials, imposing order and creating beauty within a box.
Blogs don't have structure. They're selfish pieces of text -- spread out by the author, then disappearing below the fold as time marches on. They don't stick together, these bits of text; they spray. And yet they take absorption and time to create.
Is it worth it? Is dot blog worth it? I'm still of the mind that the answer is "yes," at least for me. I'm not William Gibson, although I'd like to be (what's not to like?), and I need breaks from the other daily things I do. But there's a reason so many blogs are abandoned.