I've realized that in order to have a successful (by which I mean, "serviceably popular") blog, I must choose from a very few, unenticing options:
1. I can look for other bloggers who share my interests and sense of humor, join a community, and network until I'm satisfied with my level of internet celebrity (puke).
2. I can post violent, daily rants of a racist/sexist/capitalist/nationalist/Christian/xenophobic nature and just wait until a bunch of angsty high school kids find my blog and try to retaliate with a morass of spelling and grammar errors.
3. I can become famous like Diablo Cody, write entries about what I did today, and then watch as thirty five to fifty MySpace users ejaculate in the direction of even my boringest drivel.
These options all sound like more trouble than they're worth, so I guess I'll remain in the same rut as a few dozen million of my fellow Americans: writing in a glorified, involuntarily private digital journal, waxing poetic to myself about our wonderful black president. One thing I believe the User-Generated Content Generation has yet to face is that, despite our newfound access to information and our sudden ability to network with almost anyone on the planet, most of us are just putting ourselves out there for the world to ignore. Our culture is no more intimate today than it was 25 years ago; at least not on a social level. It is, however, filled with infinitely more misspelled racial epithets, pseudo-intellectualism, and videos of fat people falling down.