Why keep a blog?

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For those who know me, know my ego is pretty small. (I make up for it in height.) So, ever since I read the article "Cyberspace When You're Dead" last week, I've been thinking about why I maintain this infrequently-updated blog. I guess I should have been thinking about to whom I'm going to bequeath my online "property," who should know my user names and passwords, etc. when I'm not around to remember that I keep forgetting to blog. But that's really one of the very last things I'll spend time considering.

Nevertheless, I have a modest-sized digital record out there:
  • I tweet.
  • I've (finally) updated my Facebook profile to the "new profile layout."
  • The professional me is out there, the substance of which became the guts of an "article" about my purchasing a house.
  • I have accounts at a couple of the popular online photo-sharing sites.
  • And this blog. And probably a few other things I'm forgetting.
I don't know. I don't have a will, let alone a hint of a clue of a plan of what I want to do with the physical objects I possess that have some personal or material value. So to think about the digital "objects" most definitely hadn't crossed my mind. And now that the notion has, what of it?

By one definition, starting a blog is an act of utter narcissism. Heck, how many times will I use the first-person pronoun in this post alone? But I don't think I did it for vainglory. (Although maybe I did it so I could use words like "vainglory" without consequence.) At one time, I did contribute to a blog  -- or 'zine, semi-more accurately -- in no small part because I thought I wanted to write about music and try to get paid for it. But it mostly was a labor of love, in all senses of both words. Almost Famous it wasn't. And today, it seems this only gets updated when I want to write more about music.

Back in the days of letter-writing, my friends and I did a lot of that. Several commented that they said they could "hear" me in what I wrote, that I wrote just like I talked. I took it as a compliment though it's probably also why I never felt I could write fiction. Since all I seemed to know how to do was write like I talked, a book full of characters who all talked like me would be tiresome. (And full of parenthetical thoughts.) Later, I learned how to write scholarly papers but the idea of a book is both daunting and somewhat disinteresting. Though I do believe in the idea that everyone has one book in him/her. I think I know what mine would be and it would be non-fiction. No surprise.

So, no real answer to why maintain the blog. If I want to talk to my friends, I should just do that, no? And also, relatedly, no posthumous digital plans. I mean, if everyone says I write like I talk, once I'm no longer talking why worry about a digital preservation strategy? (see: no ego)

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