Websiting as Verb
When I was a Graduate Teaching Associate, teaching Intro to Creative Writing to students who weren’t quite half my age—in fact, they weren’t quite 3/4ths my age; they were two or three years younger than me at most—I would to stun them by referencing Xanga.
When I was in high school many moons ago, we’re talking pre-Facebook era here, most kids had blogs with Xanga. That was how we kept in contact with each other, and found out about each others’ day. That was the traditional gossip forum. And it was great because by its very nature, it forced everyone to write and to read. People took classes in XHTML just to soup up their blogs. And MySpace became the natural progression of this, as there were more photos and more space for comments, which were the two features that Xanga sort of shirked.
Now, there’s Facebook. And that’s fine. It serves its purpose. But in many ways, I really miss blogging, and its expository nature. (In fact, if there’s anything I have a genuine interest in, it’s the act of an autobiographical moment displaying itself in an art form. When I hear Bif Naked’s “Chotee,” I get the same chills as when I read Patti Smith’s Just Kids, because it’s a person who has lived passing on their experience so that I could live a little extra through them; you know, it’s the person coming down the life mountain path saying, “Yeah, watch out for that bridge over that overpass, cause when I tried to cross, all sorts of hell broke loose.”) Maybe, in some way, I can provide that service to you.
Or maybe I could be your procrastination monkey. Whatever.