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Posted by Mummy Dearest on Jan-26-2011

I read today in the local paper that Blogs are *old fashioned*. In fact, The * Dutch Bloggies* are folding their tents, after 10 years, and, whoops ! They are gone.

In the end, I have no comment.

I do know, indeed, that whomever told me that I have no life because I blog, is of course, correct.

And yet, I do indeed shrivel inside.  Imagine, I  am a point of mockery. It has been strongly implied that because I have  a *blog*, that I have nothing else. That I am , in fact, brain dead.

Yes, well, put that in your pipe and smoke it.

  1. Karan Said,

    You don’t blog, you use an electronic journal…like me.

  2. Brian Said,

    Yes, Facebook has killed personal blogging, and only we few stragglers remain. Remember when it was all so new and shiny? Good times.

  3. Mummy Dearest Said,

    Oh Brian and Karan, you both must know what I think about all of this, as you both enjoy, as I did or do, writing for writing’s sake. I remember once reading ( jeepers, it makes it sound like it was centuries ago, then again, it a certain way, it was…) that it did not matter what one wrote about but how one wrote it.

    I do remember when it was all new. I taught myself stinkin’ HTML.Oops, let me correct myself : I learned enough to be able to copy the code that I needed. But there really is no honor to be found, I think, in the fact that , in the ’90′s I was *online*. The background was black, I kid you not. I will blame the computer : I really did not have a wide range of colors. But somewhere, floating about, there is a fuzzy picture of The Baby in Italy, toothless, gnawing on a pizza crust.

    She never would eat *baby food*. And I for one cannot blame her.

    I feel so mawky, but we did have fine times, didn’t we ? With The Red House and the crocodiles. I do wonder- but really do not care- if one can ideed *Tweet* and find what we found.

    Do you want a white rocking chair on the porch or one… I really cannot spell this, it is stinkin’ French…. I have to pause, and look it up…..

    au naturale..

    That does not look right to me, but what do I know ?

  4. Mary Said,

    I see this, too, and also blame Facebook but FB will never be the “diary” our blogs will be so I try to remember to post at least now and again!

  5. Dorothy Said,

    I still enjoy a blog now & again. I expect FB has taken a toll on the blog market. I haven’t seen that movie about FB & don’t want to. I hope it doesn’t win many (any) oscars. I’m rooting for True Grit.

  6. Mummy Dearest Said,

    Hi Dorothy, I must admit, I do not want to see that Facebook film. I also do not really want to see that re make of True Grit. On my list of what I would like to see are Winter´s Bone and The King´s Speech. I suspect that I watch too much BBC and wonder about a film which really is about a speech impediment. You just KNOW that there has to be more to it. It just cannot be Wallis´ fault. Oh, har ! Not this time…

  7. Karan Said,

    I just read that the American director/producers want to re-edit The King’s Speech to take out some of the cussing…you know because nobody here swears…so that it will get a PG rating rather than the expected R. Gotta love censorship as long as somebody can decide what’s art and not, what’s good for me and what’s not. Not.

  8. idiot Said,

    Seriously? The folks who have TV shows about ordinary people going to the doctor for beans in the ears of their kids and such (not to mention the Grote Dictee–which I won’t mention, as a one hour show about people taking dictation is very good for someone trying to learn a language) are declaring blogging dead? What does that leave them with here in the present? Lots of storefronts full of bad art? Ah well, this being Holland, I have better things to put in my pipe.

  9. Mummy Dearest Said,

    OK Idiot, you made me laugh ! A real big HAR! We actually once took The Girl to GP because she stuffed a bead up her nose… she is going to kill me for saying this. What did I know ? I do know- and have always known- about all of those connections between one’s nose and one’s throat, one cannot have allergies and not know this. We never found the bead, and I certainly was not going to look for it…where one should look for an ingested bead. Think about that.

    And the Grote Dictee, oh, what a hoot. The Grote Dictee ( this is a spelling contest, by the way, in a country where they change the rules of spelling about, oh, every five years. Do the Belgians do this as well , change the rules? I guess so.. They always seem to win. Oh, thank goodness that I am so very well hidden, it is preferred to point that finger elsewhere…). I have spent many an evening keeping my mouth shut, for- after all- opposites do attract. The Father can spell correctly to an amazing degree, although those Polish ponies did once cause him to knit his brow. The cherubs can also spell well. Once again, I seem to have been the sacred vessel…

    Thanks for the laugh-

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