I would like to say that blogspot is full of shit. I have lost 2 posts about the uniformity and childishness of Singapore universities. It was a rave about how veryone describes themselves as "flexible" and "creative" and "unique" and vibrant" that no one is and the places that really are don't use those awful words anymore.

Today I was catching up with chris on the phone and she said "Kevin Costner ages well, but Alec Baldwin ages like a potato." I have never seen an aged potato, but Alec Baldwin sure as hell doesn't look too good. The closes thing to a aged potato I've seen is a week old crisp I found under the sofa. It didn't look too good either.

I will stop trying to deny that blogging is anything rather than a narcissistic exercise (i know i just insulted myself). Freedom of speech? Yes. But freedom of speech sometimes gets tiringly self-centred as well. A lot of the time, its a declaration of "Hey!!! Look at me!!! I have an OPINION!!" or at the worst levels, "Hey everyone!! Let me tell you about my day." It is the call of the insignificant, tiny man who has to do his homework, pay his taxes, and buy peanut butter to be noticed. He is sick of stayingin the background while things like newspapers (if he even has the time to read them anymore), TVs, computers, and important people tell him important things that are important in the more important parts of the world.

So in response to that, two blogs are being created every second so that a miniscule section of the WWW will be dedicated solely to the words of this one author, THE last authority on everything in that little chunk of abstract space. But are those really things that are unique to that one insignifcant individual trying not to be swallowed up in the more important, or trying to become more important? No. Duh.

In the end, the little man becomes even littler in the wide space. His musings abuot doing the laundry and being a pooper scooper become another part of a gigantic, indistinguishable crowd of likeminded aunties, serial killers, toddlers, emo freaks, and mid-rung executives talking about what they had for lunch. Even when he does express an opinion about something important, and it may be a very good opinion worth listening to, it will not be heard over the din of the millions and millions of blogs that have sprung up. Like this one will be. These thoughts will be swallowed like a yell at a Live8 concert, and only the friends standing closest to you will hear anything.

And like a Live8 concert, there are the stars that get listened to. Stars like mr brown, the nearly-porn stars who post pretty pictures and the blogs of tyrannical Iranian leaders. Cyberspace is no longer a relief from reality. It is reality.