I’m not a fan of blogs.

The internet seemed to do well enough before them; in fact, the extent of their innovation seems to be limited to their name.

The average person could hop onto the web in 1996 and make a “homepage” on Tripod or Lycos without knowing a single bit of HTML code. Many did. And still there was no revolution. The universe didn’t shudder.

Yet there was something feminine about the whole business. Blogs are simply a case of history repeating itself—only with way more penis. And because of that, this time, it counts.

The bulk of my complaints on the genre can be read in my 2005 article, “Kill Your Blogs.” Principal among them, is that blogs have a peculiarly masculine vision of literacy: writing (active, masculine) is privileged over reading (passive, feminine) and thus people are expected only to read enough to write their own comments in the margins.

Men generally don’t read literature, poetry, monographs, or biographies—but they do read blogs. We belong to a carrot-on-the-stick era, where writing has become the reward of reading, or merely pretending to read: “I’ll skim through what you have to say just so I can leave you with the really important things that I have to say.”

Blogs have also hurt forum-based communities. Blogs certainly have social aspects.  Conversations sometimes wind their way through comment sections, even if they lack the infrastructure to handle them with grace. Bloggers also write their reactions to the writings of other bloggers, all blandly tacking the same subject through a web of pings and trackbacks. But the forums of yore were much more democratic affairs.

“Celebrity” was focused inwards instead of outwards, where one’s social networking didn’t have the added benefit of a higher Technorati ranking, Google hits, or even radio invitations and book deals. No, there’s nothing wrong with success, but that success isn’t about blogs, it’s about big business trying to catch on to the latest fad. And there’s a cost to that, too. When every small magazine or organization decides it has to have a blog, in order to keep up with the big cocks of the world, they have less time and money for other community building services.

On that same note, the idea of who is or isn’t a blogger is also a political one. I describe that more fully in the article “I Made Some Science: Massaging the Medium,” where women, too often, were disenfranchised from the genre as “mere diarists.”

So why a blog, then?

Because I’m weak.

Because I miss being funny.

Because so often there’s things I’d like to address that might seem incomplete—or even petty—if gussied up into article form.

Because it’s easier to invite people to write here as guests than it is to get them to submit feature-length articles.

Nevertheless, there will never be any throwaway posts here that don’t further the mission of Adonis Mirror; no top ten lists, no memes, and no CafePress links to merchandise that no reasonable person would have any cause to purchase.