The Death of Blogging

Celebs and Media

With the passing of Michael Jackson I became painfully aware that the whole blog thing was dead:

Number of people who mentioned the King of Pop’s passing from my 52 followers: 50
Number of mentions of the one gloved icon’s demise from my blogroll: 2

The numbers are telling. The party is over.

Within an our of MJ’s death TMZ was reporting (via their blog) that the internet was “maxed out” with Tweets and Facebook updates. I guess TMZ had nothing else to report at that moment.

I’m not saying that blogs will end as of today, but it’s pretty obvious the whole online meme of confessing your soul out to the universe has moved on to faster pastures. The personal blog is on the downturn. Which, to me, is a bit sad. Not that I’m bashing Twitter or Facebook, but I do see these mediums as being limited and distracting when getting your full feelings and thoughts out.

Much like a car horn: Twitter is great to get your attention. Annoying when the hand stays on the button.

You have to remember I’ve lived through Geocities and Webrings. I’ve seen this stuff come and go in waves.

Me? When it comes to blogging I’m going to be like that last guy at the party, scraping out the room temperature bean dip with shards of crackers.

Disney Cheese Cake

General

We’re 4 days into the holiday and we’re lazily looking at Animal Kindom Lodge – a massive “hut” resort with wild animals running wild in the hotel’s inner courtyard. SharkBoy and SisterInLawSharkBoy are in the giftshop (again) and I’m waiting on a massive leather couch in the lobby with NephewInLawSharkBoy.

I spy from across the room one of Disney’s PhotoPass people taking extremely set up pictures of couples and scanning their retrieval cards for purchase later, online. I get an idea. I tell the Nephew to sit tight, wait for SharkBoy and Sis-In-Law.

I walk up to the photographer. “Is this a FastPass picture?” I ask, completely confusing the reserved ride system with the online photo purchasing system.

“Uh… it’s PhotoPass…?”

“Right! Can I get a picture?”

“By yourself?”

“Yes.” I make a face that says I’m all alone – Waaa Waaaa Waaaaaah! I pose. He shrugs. He takes the shot.

I know that the family will come home at the end of the holiday and punch in the number to the PhotoPass account and ooo and aaa as they click through the pictures we had professionally taken in all the parks and then come across…

…this one.

Dinner Guests

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits, Toronto
Rev Big Daddy Bear and Fermat

Rev Big Daddy Bear and Fermat

There was something I was suppose to do today…

I woke to the news that SharkBoy will be taking a few forced days off in the form of a civil servant strike. Know that the media really isn’t displaying the union’s demands in full light (it’s easier to just say “it’s about benefits” and move onto displaying the public’s indignation) and that while we both don’t support the strike 100% (who does?) I can understand why they’re defensive towards these “sick days”.

Was I suppose to call someone?

I went to the gym and on the walk there I noticed evidence that the unions had gone ahead and covered up the garbage cans with cling wrap. Oh that will work! My my my! Considering how garbage was piled chest height in public parks during the last time, this deterrent will certainly keep people from dumping their trash. No, the cling wrap won’t be torn open and heaped higher than the Will.I.Am/Perez drama. Ba-zing!

Was I suppose to send someone something?

After, we sped through laundry and got our asses down to City Hall so that SharkBoy could register for picket line duty. Strikers were offered locations to walk the line, as it were. We questioned where Cherry and Commissioner Streets were and thankfully he didn’t choose that location because that’s where the most “action” is going on – yelling, arguing, car-bumping of strike line walkers. No, he chose to walk in front of the building he loves the most in the city: City Hall itself. It was funny to see on the news that at 8am this morning, the strike walk circle was as wide as an Olympic-sized swimming pool and by the time we got there, the circle had tightened up to something the size of the crazy-man prisoner circle from Midnight Express. SharkBoy has his iPhone and sunblock all ready for tomorrow – 4 shifts of 4 hours for a minuscule fraction of his wages. Here comes rent!

I should check my emails…

When we got back from a leisurely walk from City Hall, we sat down to dinner and finished up The Mist on the PVR. Something was nagging me though. Something electronic… I checked my email and found a note from the visiting fermat and his husband, Rev Big Daddy Bear. We were suppose to have dinner… CRAP!!

Aren’t I the gracious host! They tell me they’re coming to town and I suggest dinner – then forget like an Alzheimer’s patient off his meds. I’ve been promising myself to make new friends this year and things like this just blew my new years resolution out of the water. I call and tried not to sound 1 inch tall and make arrangements for a fast dinner and ice cream.

gifts

Gifts from Afar

We eventually met up and had dinner. I have to say that it’s an utter shame that these two don’t live in town, I could see the four of us hanging out a lot more. “fermat” is from the east coast and brings a unassuming warmth and friendliness that was fun to experience. Example: he’s been a long time reader (he quoted a blog post from last year) and brought me a gift bag of robots and a shark for SharkBoy. His husband was just as nice and interesting and had the sexiest laugh lines around his eyes. You could tell he smiled a lot.  It was over way too fast. My fault for forgetting the original meeting time. I’m sorry guys!

I hope that we can meet up again and if we ever get out there, consider us on your doorstep!

<a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/deadrobot/3650010067/” title=”Rapt Irony by deadrobot, on Flickr”><img src=”http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3414/3650010067_aa537345d3_o.jpg” width=”600″ height=”800″ alt=”Rapt Irony” /></a>

Pride Father’s Day

Personal Bits, Queer stuff, Toronto

As a salute to Pride Week starting up and Father’s Day this weekend, I’m digging up my speech to nominate my father to be the Grand Marshal for Pride 2007 for all you new readers. Long time readers can snort and say “slow news day” if you like.

As you know the room was stacked in Michelle DuBarry’s favour and votes cast for her resembled an Iranian landslide. It was a bit disheartening to find out it was a popularity vote and not a decision by committee. I think if my dad did drag he might have had a chance.

Educating Rita

Personal Bits, Queer stuff

My mom just emailed my gay brother, The Professor, and myself:

“What/Who are fats and fems???”

I responded with:

“In personal ads in newspapers and online, less sensitive people would ask that “no fats or fems” respond to their article. “Fats” are persons with weight issues, “fems” are the more flamboyant type of homosexual. It’s a sexist/body fascist remark that really defines the user’s intelligence.

In our family, I’m the fat, Dan is the fem.”

My asthmatic brother replied:

“I’m the phlegm!”

My less than busty sister replied:

“I’m the flat.”