Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Addicted to Love

I credit the late, adequate Robert Palmer with the title of my second blog. It sufficiently describes my first couple of hours as a blog initiate.

I've just been messing with the settings and I'm already excited about posting idle ramblings and fixating on insignifica. For instance:

One thing in the settings I didn't struggle with as much as I thought I would was deciding if I was going to use the Ads by Google option. If you're not aware, this is a program that will have content related ads appear on your site and based on traffic and other things I don't understand, they will actually pay you for writing about yourself...more or less.

At first, something felt dirty about the whole thing. I couldn't really put my finger on this dirty thing and as I'm not some Neil Young acolyte, I decided I would go ahead and participate.

I suppose I may develop compunctions on down the line if I'm not particularly supportive of the ads that happen to appear alongside my dazzling wordplay, but for now, I feel fine.

But let's say I'm crafting a blistering diatribe against penguin documentaries or something else similarly lovable and the Google robots think I support such things and thereby populate my page with links causing the sale of three more copies of an endearing DVD.

I'm not sure that's the end of the world, but I can't help thinking of that episode of Good Times when Florida was asked to give a consumer testimonial in a commercial for a product she didn't believe in.

Hey, it was good scratch for promoting bad crap and Michael sure could use some new school clothes or some such shit he was always whining about. And we know that J.J.'s Big Mac bill alone was enough to break the bank.

But in the face of all this pressure, at the moment of truth, Flo did the right thing and refused to ply the product...Whatever it was.
Might've been a Penguin DVD come to think of it.

Regardless, that episode taught me something about doing what's right. Namely, that it's okay to profit from things that you believe in, but disingenuous if you don't.
And that's just wrong, Mr. Leno.

Or something.

Ain't we lucky we got 'em?
Good times.

You're So Vain

Okay, I relent. I'll offer this up to the ether.
I'll write a damn blog.

I certainly have the requisite arrogance to think that my pithy observations and unsolicited commentary on minutiae are worthy of being read by friends, family, and complete strangers why not?

I might not even tell anyone about this and just see how many random people come across this thing and actually comment.

Whatever. Mostly I just like to type.