Blogging’s on the way out, apparently. ‘Oh no, how will I ever meet anyone interesting again?’, was my reaction to this. Seriously, how would I?
According to the Stamford-based consultancy, 20m people have already stopped updating their blogs, while the 100m expected to keep plugging away represent those who still reckon they have something to say, and still think other people are keen to hear it.
The claim that all bloggers are egomaniacs is quite true, but it misses the point that ALL humans are egomaniacs.
Ooops, I do hope that category doesn’t somehow include me (although this viewpoint does make sorry sense). In the same article, the writer talks about something that reminds me of something else called Second Life which is, as my housemate described this morning, ‘a slightly more interesting way of instant messaging’. You create a ‘second life’ for yourself (it does exactly what it says on the tin) that’s presumably more interesting and exciting than the one you have currently. You can be whatever you want, I believe, and your friends can too. You and they can transport yourselves into this alternative reality all day everyday and, erm, do stuff there. Why not, I suppose.
Frankly, though, I don’t have enough time to deal with the current reality I have, so I’m not sure at all why I would want to create another one for myself in which I’m, say, a 6′ 2″ supermodel (currently, I’m just a 5′ 4″ supermodel) who goes to all the best places and has all the best fun with all the best money. Or, say, a feisty attitude-d rock star with a worrying but interesting drug habit and mental health condition and nothing better to do. In fact, I could think of nothing worse; particularly if this prediction is anything to go by.
Here’s how I see it working. Every slife has a value, but some are more attention-worthy than others. Fifty grumpy old men probably won’t get the fanbase that one cheerleader might, for instance. So a market will develop – pay cash, pay more interesting chunks of your own day, contribute group feeds from your buddies – anything to gain access to those higher-credit lives. Fans will buy monthly subscriptions to higher-prized slifes, amateurs will stream their slifes for free, popular amateur sites will be rewarded for their real time – real-life soap opera with big bucks in advertising revenue – and, slowly but surely, every square inch of urbanised land, every minute of every day, will be criss-crossed by point-streaming recorders of all that they see and all that they do. At school, at work, in the shower, in bed, watching, being watched – a consensual Big Brother state, Orwell’s and Endemol’s coinciding. The death of privacy, the death, almost as a side-effect, of telly, too.
But, whatever floats your boat! This would likely sink mine.
I’ll stick with the blogging. I like the words: using words to convey ideas (even if they’re only interesting to yourself) is a much harder job than building a big house with a swimming pool on the Interweb any day.
Or so we all thought in 2006.