What The Blog Is Going On

   A month or so ago I hadn't a clue what a blog was, and some of you reading my blogs might think that I still haven't a clue. Well, that's one of the lovely things about blogging, it is both a precarious and unpredictable process.

The response that I had to my first blog, I really enjoyed. It came from:

BaDmAdSpAce, and it made me laugh. What I liked was the note of reality that it introduced from the outset, and it was concise and to the point. It read:

"u r 2 old im afraid 2 hav my space."

   Well I tried to find this young lady in the hope that I could tell you more about her, but sadly she is missing from cyber space.

   Hot on the heels of BaDmAdSpAce came Jessica, who is someone special. Firstly she emailed me all the way from China to say that there was a spelling mistake in the 5th paragraph, 4th line down, so now she is my unofficial Editor. And when, some years ago, I thought I had reason to be concerned for her, I was moved to write this poem: -

My Sunflower Girl

I will hear your voice in bird song

and find your love in sunlight and dappled shade

and your gifts in the colour and fragrance of flowers.

And I will cry with you in the rain.

For my path will be your path, and my breath your breath

and you will be there in the moonlight and in the stars.

And your warmth will reach me - even on frosted ground.

For the willow will be revived,

and the birds will soar and sing,

and in the breeze I will whisper, "Hello!"

And as you turn to the sun, I will turn to you,

My Sunflower Girl.

   Now when I started to blog, I instinctively went looking for the oxygen of bloggers, and I must say that in the first instance it was a depressing experience. Most of the bloggers were young, and with few exceptions, they had little to say other than how drunk they were the last time. And young girls, sadly, seemed to think it cool to use the word "fuck" as often as "fuckn" possible. That left me wondering if they thought that the "fuckn" word had just "fuckn" been invented, until it occurred to me that the "fuckn" explanation could be worse, that no one has told them, or better still, shown them, that there is music in language, that music inspires, and that its richness and depth depends on us getting beyond the level of the tambourine.

   Now I know that nothing stays the same, not even language. It is there to be used and is in a constant state of flux. But here is something that for me has stood the test of time. It was "Master Fitzpatrick" at his teaching best, introducing us to the imaginative and subtle language of poetry. And as we were reciting it aloud in class, we had to flail our arms right and left depending on which direction we were heading:

Wander Thirst

Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,

And East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be;

It works on me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-bye;

For the seas call and the stars call, and oh! the call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are.

But a man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star;

And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,

For the river calls and the road calls, and oh! the call of a bird"

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day

The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;

But come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,

You may put the blame on the stars and the Sun

and the white road and the sky.

   Now if my first encounter with bloggers was disappointing, a very nice lady from "down under" who goes by the name of "treefairy" came to the rescue, and helped me to hang on to my faltering self-belief. By the time she was born I had lived long enough to have made a few mistakes, but by the time our blogging paths crossed, she had already come around to my way of thinking, on some things, and was threatening to nick some of my ideas. Of course I had to reply, and one of the big blogging decisions that I had to make, was whether or not to disclose my email address. I though about it, hesitated, and then included it. I really wasn't sure what the etiquette was for a first encounter, but not wanting to be mean, I sent it. Happily this lady had the good sense to ignore it, and I haven't been invited to meet her behind Ayres Rock. You can find her at http://spaces.msn.com/members/treefairy/

Hot on the heels of the "treefairy" cane Jackie, she's 42 and not at all bothered about it, and she's a romantic at heart, you only have to look at her "Golden Oldies." Go on have a peep. http://spaces.msn.com/members/punkynoodle/

   And here's an interesting thing about bloggers, the young especially. They have no blogging stamina. And if you don't believe me, here's the proof:

From Emma:

" hey, well i was jus passin... sorri i only read tha first paragraph of ur blog! im a wee bit tiard!!!!!!...."

And from Fuchsia

"As below," (in situ she was referring to the above quote.) "I would read this whole entry but I'm very tired..."

   Now honesty requires that I tell you more, that both Emma and Fuchsia were gracious in defeat. Emma managed a few syllables in praise of my site, and Fuchsia this:

"From the half I have read, I love your writing style, and I have always had a fascination with the Wonders of the World, particularly the Great Wall... it's a place I plan to visit in my life (among many others). Your blog is very interesting and different (in a good way,) it's great to see someone with a real interest [in] the world outside the window. Take care."

Well the least I could do was write back, which was what I did and I encouraged Fuchsia to finish "Me And The Great Wall Of China."

   Now if tiredness is self defeating how is this for an excuse. It came from "bubblegum."

"Hello... I would have read your whole blog but I've just drank a whole bottle of wine and my vision is all blurred. (I don't mean this in any bad sort of way... as I'm sure it's all very nice and I will endeavour to return at a latter date when I'm not so drunk like} so I think I'm just going to go and kill things in a new game I just got called Dungeon siege II, its a sort of Tolkienesk fantasy romp type affair... where you just basically have to kill goblins and such... very good for the soul chi carma wot ever... P.S. my dad says its the civil servants that actually run the country... PPS that probably makes you kinda important like... PPPS :-) take care."

There is something about this excuse that doesn't quite ring true, and I am not sure that the problem is one of attention span either. But having read it, I was instantly reminded of the TV compeer and entertainer Bruce Forsyth. I could see him on my TV screen looking askance at the studio audience and hear him goading them with his catchphrase; ""Didn't he do well" - with his blurred vision?"

   Here, vision, (of the long-sighted short-sighted variety is not the problem), but something else, and that's putting it kindly. 

"Are you obsessed with chinkies or something?"

"ow much longer u gonna bore me wit ya freeky gay wat evas stop!"

"hi i fink ur blog is a bit gay nd no 1 rely cares way ur fukin story is about."

"yoy space is weird an so are u by the sounds oy it how old are u chineas or just like the chineas sort ya self out (CREAP) i know u spent alot of time on it an i epreciate dat tho anyway iv ya want sum sex emale me my addy is..."

And lastly this

"your picture sucks mehe he hehe he he hehe he hhe he heh"

   Well when reading these blogs I was so far removed from the uplifting music of language or any sense of the aesthetically pleasing, that I decided to visit these good people at home. To, as it were, pop around to their space to see if things were as dire as they seemed. Well I needn't have bothered. In most instances while there was a "published by" address, there was no "permalink." But there was for "yoy space is weird...." and when I knocked, so to speak, the electronic voice said, "not available."

   Now there is one more thing that I would like to say, before I tell you where to find an inspirational website.

   Having at the outset placed a lot of emphasis on the beauty of language, I am sure that most of us know that language is only one form of self-expression, and that without either language or sight of a pretty girl, it is possible to see and be moved by beauty in other cultures. What a pity that this was lost on these particular bloggers. Though they live in an age of unparalleled opportunity, where communication is almost instant and global, they failed, sadly, to seize the moment. Why? Because what they lacked, and without doubt still lack, is imagination and a sense of wonder.

Well, for now, go to my "Must Visit Spaces," (it is on the right,) and there you will find her - the force - at "SUNSET"

__________________
© Cormac McCloskey

Note: "What The Blog Is Going On" was first published, by me, on Windows Live Spaces on 1st September 2005

The poem: Wander Thirst, is by Gerald Gould
Taken from The Open Road
Compiler E.V. Lucas
Published by Methuen & Co. 1905
Originally published by a Mr Grant Richards in 1899