If the problem with kittens is that they grow up to be cats, and if the problem with puppies is that they grow up to be dogs, then the problem with old people is that they turn into old farts. The definition of an “old fart” is this: a person who has strong opinions and lacks the inhibitions necessary to refrain from stating them.
Likewise, if the problem with television is that it turns viewers into mush brains, and if the problem with personal music players is that they turn listeners into public recluses, then the problem with blogging is that it turns bloggers into old farts.
And so I am an old fart. See, on my blog I pick the soup de jour. I pick the priorities. I pick the information. I pick everything–and since it’s solely my platform, I can build my opinions into fortified towers of posts, virtually unassailable.
This may sound arrogant, but one ultimate fact remains. That is, the saving grace about an old fart blogger, as compared to the necessary grace required by regular old farts, is that a blogger’s menu and venue can be set aside with but a click.
