"Just a single comment makes their day, and a single link from a bigger site would be considered a sex act in the more repressive societies when they see the orgasms of delight it brings them," writes Laurence Simon of This Blog is Full of Crap re why bloggers blog:
Well, what do you expect? Looking at this from an ecosystem standpoint, the Blogopshere is mostly parasites at the bottom of the Journalism Food Chain. We suck the blood out of each other, tear at each others carcasses, and feed upon the remnants the big players leave behind.
Maybe a symbiosis will result, where we the parasites take the raw materials consumed by the journalists, chop it up like bacteria render cellulose into nourisment for ruminants and similar beasties. Now and then, a hunter comes out of our midst to land some fresh kill, whether it be raw news or the bringing down of a fat, lazy, slow, old and tired journalist at the fringes of the herd, but for the most part it's parasites. Not a lot of biomass passing around the parasites, dung-beetlers, and maggots. It's a niche, but not a very pleasant or profitable one.
You're not going to see a complex, rich, and comfortable civilization arise from dung beetles and maggots.
For us, it's always been about the importance of being noticed, but we would take Laurence to task in his assertion that a complex civilization won't rise from dung beetles and maggots. Civilization is, in fact, only as good as its dung beetles and maggots (think of the clean-up costs without them):
1) Those bacteria and such that break down nasty things are integral to Mother Nature's energy-recycling plan -- and much better for the environment and the pocketbook than the Kyoto Protocol.
2) The meek shall inherit the Earth.
As for Laurence's "orgasms of delight," yes:
I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
-- Molly Bloom's Soliloquy from Ulysses by James Joyce
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