There's no question that I'm a huge fan of Funnsylvania. I find its creator and curator Rob Diener to be wildly humorous in a man on the verge of a tragic and sad breakdown kind of way. Nowhere is this more clear than in his fabulous MP3 performances. I imagine, sometimes, that they're recorded as he drives around east Hollywood searching for his next victim. Or as he stares out of the window of a two room apartment he hasn't left in 13 months wearing a Lake Placid Olympics sweatshirt that reeks of hash, sweat, and mildew. It's theater of the mind and, regardless of where you set him, Diener's recordings are exactly the kind of rare genius that would never see the light of day were it not for the utter uselessness of the internet and the collective boredom and low standards of a generation.

I'm such a fan, in fact, that I feel compelled to respond to his post of the 18th which, though officially untitled, I like to call "I'm Boss: Rob Diener's Giant and Fragile Ego Wrestles With Success."

Because, as they say in New York, I know from giant and fragile egos.

Last week I responded to Rob's request for help redesigning his site. I did this because I'm a fan and because it passes time while waiting in the bushes for Erin Gray to walk out of her house alone. Over the course of the email exchange, I asked if he uses blogging software to update his site. Because my own ego is gigantic, I can only assume his tirade on blogs and blogging at least partially stems from that thoughtless misstatement.

I can understand why Rob chafes at his blog being referred to as a blog. The blogging community, or blogosphere as it's called by hard-ons, is only marginally cooler than the Star Trek community. On the downside, it takes itself more seriously. And most blogs are awful. No one wants to hear the moment to moment thoughts of a pimply-faced loser -- that's why they didn't have friends in high school. Being spared seeing the zits is the only improvement over face-to-face that blogs offer.

Blogs are lame. Rob'll get no argument from me there. That's why I'm sorry that he writes one.

The not-so-hilarious Devil's Dictionary 2.0 says that blog means, "to noisily and simultaneously void one’s spleen, stomach, bladder and bowels." Though the attempt at comedy was abortive, I think it's a somewhat accurate working definition. My own loose definition of blog goes something like this: A webpage updated regularly with frequently bad prose by a person or persons that thinly veils megalomania with some amount of concern about or awareness of the world around them.

Ultimately, I think one can determine whether or not one writes a blog by asking oneself two questions. The first is, "Do I regularly update a website with personal writing?" The second is, "Was I or am I still a pimply-faced loser in high school?"

No matter that I'm a monstrously-endowed pheromone-radiating dynamo now, I was that then, and I'm certain that's what makes my blog a blog.

In anticipation of my absence next Monday and Tuesday (sigh, America, sigh,) I also asked Rob if he'd like to fill in for me here. It's a thrill for the kid, I'm sure. He's getting called up to the majors. The show. I think anyone who's seen Bull Durham knows how people can respond to that. There's pressure involved with writing on The Spoonbender. It's not even writing. It's crafting. It's artful word crafting. Perhaps denying the form in which he works is a way to shirk responsibility for entertaining the vast numbers that journey here each day to consume the very best this language, or any language, has to offer.

But who am I to say. Maybe Funnsylvania isn't a blog. But if it's not, it's in the same way that Audis are more than just cars. Rather than making a mountain out of a molehill, Diener should be pleased to write one of the best blogs in the dignified history of blogs. And his incurable impotence doesn't change that.

Analogcabin @ 8:30 AM
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