Thankfully, this is the last day for me to post a post about posting weblog posts.
In case you didn’t pay attention to last week’s ramblings and shortcomings, here’s the long and short of it (mostly short):
Yesterday, I talked about the fact that every weblog or blogging in general is a kind of shorthand for something else. There’s a code, see.
The day before that, I was so tired and then it was sundown and I posted nothing. This is in and of itself interesting to me, though, because I generally do not post on Sabbath as I feel it’s somewhat abhorrent and I realize that most people would think this silly, foolish, or otherwise overly religious. It could be said that posting to your blog is not “work.” But I think it’s a kind of work, a slightly easier, more playful form of work, yet still work. I don’t know.
The day before this one, I was in New Jersey and had highway-brain and so barely blogged.
The day before that was some kind of pablum on death and blogging, which was good, if not sad.
The day before that, I wrote about the relationship between contemporary art and the activity of blogging and how blogging was the latest form of contemporary art. I’m not sure I said that, but that’s what I should have said.
The day before that, I revealed how many/few visitors I actually get to Deckchairs on the Titanic and implied that this revelation was meaningful because it was sad.
That brings us to the first post in the series, the one that started this ballgame, and there were some great comments posted about the idea of audiences, blogging, and peacefulness. Since then, no comments have been posted and that, too, is a bit sad.

A while back, maybe six months ago, someone sent me a link to the blogger code, at which you answer a few questions about your blogging habit or habits and the site provides you with a relatively unique code that you can place on your site that tells the select few what you think, know, love, and detest about blogging.
It’s a nice experiment. My code is this: B9 d++ t+ k s u f i- o+ x– e- l- c-. Not very elegant; I wish that it would be all d-plusses. (There’s a decoder for this thing as well.)
But in thinking about the logic of the above blogger code, I think that weblogs speak in their own, very specific and more easily decipherable, code. For instance, there is code around all of the following elements that make up blogging:
– The external links you provide on your site is akin to knowing who is in, who you like, who you don’t, and why.
– The type of blogging tool you use has its own classification system — with the list in order of best to worst, though tremendously unspoken, probably being: Movable Type, Greymatter, TypePad, Radio UserLand, Blogger, and Blog*Spot. All kinds of classism goes along with this codification.
– The quantity of posts one does per week. Those who post two or three times per day get extra credits typically.
– The exactitude and quality of the design tells one how interested the blogger is in relaying their sense of the world uniquely.
– The language of the blog, English being the best, of course.
– The uniqueness of the name of the blog and one’s ability to purchase a domain name of unique meaning and origin.
I understand that this sounds all cynical and yucky, but I don’t mean it to. I’m just thinking about the new bloggers on the block, those who don’t have a domain name yet, who don’t know how to install Movable Type (MT), who only know how to type and need an audience. I wonder what they do, how they get in and I wonder if there will increasingly be tools to allow the blog-cream to rise to the misty heavens of a dedicated readership.

Today, I have nothing to say about blogging. Nothing to say at all. I spent an interesting day at a client’s shop learning about the biological sciences in New Jersey. It’s going to be a cool project. And all I can think of now is that I need to post. I desperately need to post. This is what I need to do. Post. Now posting…