I don’t think that Twitter is really the death of blogging as we know it. I think that if anything is going to kill blogging, it’s going to be much more mindless:
As I sat there, mindlessly “harvesting” circus peanuts from elephants, angora wool I can never actually knit with, and grapefruit that is fruiting next to red maple trees, I thought, “What the heck am I doing?”
I could be writing something fascinating or heart-baring, or I could be making Christmas cookies. Oh, well I can make cookies or pies or cakes in Facebook’s YoVille game, so that’s taken care of. And those baked goods won’t increase my hip size!
I could go visit friends, go dancing, or go run races with them. I forgot, though: that’s what Pet Society is for, because we can all do those things as our animal alter egos and wear cute costumes and live in a house decorated with things we could never afford in real life and have the added bonus of not needing dusting.
Speaking of Pet Society, I actually had a nightmare last night that was based on Pet Society. Not that I’ve actually logged into that game for months, probably, but I dreamed that it was all REAL and that people were living in this huge building with different tiers of suites based on progression through these levels and it turned out these levels were all based on some sort of worship of this weird alien/demon thing and it was my job to disconnect the server that was funneling all the propaganda material in and the whole place was watched over by a guy in drag with really heavy make-up and … well, I think it’s obvious that Will and I just spent a week watching series 2 of Doctor Who, isn’t it?
So if you don’t see me around for a while, stop by one of my Facebook restaurants or cafés, or check on my farms, and I’ll probably be by once in a while. Because, you know, that’s the easiest way to be brain dead and still act like I’m interacting with people.