Month: September 2002

First we had The Weblog Handbook, then We’ve Got Blog, then We Blog (all of which I’ve read or am reading). Then there’s the O’Reilly Essential Blogging, which I haven’t read yet – and now Blogging by Biz Stone and Blog on by Todd Stauffer. Is there really a market for all of them? So far, I’m embarrassed to confess, the one I’ve enjoyed most has been Rebecca Blood’s Weblog Handbook, which actually managed to remind me what it was that drew me to weblogs in the first place. Personal and engaging with a clear and almost kindly voice… Much recommended for beginners, and worth reading for those of us who’ve been around the block a few times…

“And it’s finally official: Meg and Paul are getting married! This is of course genius news about two friends of mine that I think are wonderful and totally adore. It’s enough to inspire you with hope and cheery feelings way in excess of anything generated merely with amphetamines and alcohol. Good on you kids…”

“it’s also an event that will resonate through Blogdom, whether they like it or not (and they damn better bloody like it because I can’t stop shouting about it everywhere I go). I’ve already put in two or three begging calls to be official reporter for blogdom – but don’t expect pictures, because I think they’re going to Hello! magazine. I remain concerned that I might be called to play the role of (old) maid of honour or bridesmaid – but I take heart in the possibility that Davo may have to return to England to stand beside me in a crimplene frock.”

“But at this time of happy wonderings, ladies and gentlemen, let us not forget those who have been laxer about their nuptials. While Meg and Paul’s news warms the cockles of all our hearts, will now a world full of expectant webloggers now turn their wiggling eyebrows and pointed expressions San Francisco-wards?”

“This is Tom Coates, reporting live from Los Angeles for the Weblog Entertainment Network…”

So last night, while as glued to Forever Young as you legitimately can be, I had a long involved AIM-conversation with Ian Betteridge about whether or not iCal is a meatspace blogging tool. His argument was that the sharing of information about oneself freely on the web constituted weblog-like behaviour. But I maintain that the publishing of calendars is a very distinct creature, as separate from weblogs as a project plan is from a teenage confessional…

So the question of the moment is Are Weblogs Sexist? It’s a stunningly weird thing to argue for such a medium – where anyone can have their say and link to whatever and whomever they wish. But I suppose it’s possible to argue that the community favours, and tends to link to, posts by men – although I think it’s untrue. Someone in the same thread argues that gay webloggers are also almost invisible, but that goes directly against my personal experience, so I find it difficult to take seriously. In fact, in a discussion with Cal a while back, the suggestion was mooted that gay men particularly might be over-represented in our little community – particularly in the UK. My personal feeling is that this again is unfounded, and that it’s merely our ability to be open and visible that makes us so evident. However, if you’re really looking for a lesson to learn from all of this, then could I suggest is that we should all keep aware of how easy it is to be parochial when you’re writing about your life. Something that’s comprehensible to the widest amount of people will probably also be more interesting for them.

I don’t know if this is going to have the same impact for people who haven’t gone through it, or worried about going through it, as it has for those of us who have. But if you want a fairly accurate picture of what coming out to a parent feels like for most people, then this excerpt from a BBC TV Series ‘Diners’ will provide it. The important things to notice here are Paul’s nerves and vague mishandling of the process (he’s clearly sheepish and embarrassed), the heartfelt emotion by his mother and finally his look of confusion and worry – he’s just plain scared – at the end… It’s not hardcore, it’s not violent – it’s two people in a restaurant talking. But it’s still difficult and upsetting viewing…

Odd link of the day – Daypop is out of action at the moment – it turns out it was out of disk space. But while it’s being fixed, it turns out you can visit the archives to find out what were the most blogged-about sites from any day in the last several months. On my thirtieth birthday, for example, the daypop top 40 was obsessed with Amazon Light, the relaunched iPod and the damn Guardian Best British Blog competition. In the meantime Blogdex is mostly still up and running if you’re still suffering Daypop-withdrawal.

Less than a rant, more than a query – today I’m interested in the way Google handles links to pages which contain internal anchors. For example, if you do a search for ‘Greg Dyke’ on my Atomz powered search facility, then you get this exact link, whereas Google if presented with a similar search term (but not exactly the same as Google clearly won’t rate me quite as highly), then you get this page returned. The difference? One has picked up the internal anchor on the page and the other hasn’t. Is there any particular reason why Google doesn’t leap to the relevant internal anchor? Is it to do with the specifics of weblog content?

And while people tell me that there’s still some battles on B3ta‘s mailing list about my post the other day, across the Atlantic a young gay man who’s had enough trouble in his life already is now having to deal with post-coming-out fallout from his parents. Bart did the deed a couple of days ago and their first reaction seemed really positive, but since then things have gone downhill. I feel awful for Bart – completely awful. I think it’s terrible that the world can make it so difficult for young gay men and women. And I just cannot understand how anyone can try and stop accurate information being distributed to parents and children. Or why any religion, society or political persuasion would want to make gay teenagers’ lives any more difficult than they already are. It scares and – frankly – disgusts me.

My own experiences of coming out were very different from Bart’s. In the early nineties, there was no internet to be a first point of call. I had no contact with any other gay people or impartial information of any kind except for a late-night television show. That show was literally the only thing I had in the world that told me that there were other people out there who were like me. And to be honest, they weren’t really like me – they were very politicised, very scary looking people. It wasn’t until my year out before University that I came out to anyone, and that was undertaken in a pretty half-assed way. He didn’t even realise I’d done it for weeks. It just kind of happened in the background. And it took me until my first year at University to come out to anyone else, and it was a few years after that before my mother and I had the fateful argument that ended with me telling her what a bloody difficult woman she was and that, by the way, I was a big homo.

If there are any teenage gay guys out there who are having trouble with their parents, then you could do much worse than send them information about PFLAG. They may sound a bit worthy, but they’re really good decent people. I had the honour of arranging an event at my old university with some people from the English branch. They were amazing. There’s a really good PDF that’s worth downloading too: Our Daughters and Sons: Questions and Answers for Parents of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgendered People. And feel free to e-mail me if you want to have a talk about anything…

So it’s four days until the winner of the Guardian’s Best British Weblog is to be announced and interesting new facts are emerging about how it’s being conducted and the attitude of (at least one of) the judges. Via Quinquireme I came upon Bowblog – which is the site of Steve Bowbrick, one of the Guardian-elected arbiters of our huge online community. He talks a bit about the Not the Best Project in vaguely completely-missing-the-point kind of terms, but I’ll pass swiftly over that. What I won’t pass over are these particularly stunning statements:

“I think the competition will prove to be a real validation for the new form and, I hope, a springboard for the weblog’s leap into the mainstream.”

And my particular favourite:

“It’s always difficult to see your clever, groovy, pioneering passion popularised but I’m certain that even the elite would prefer the visibility and influence that competitions like this will provide to obscurity and irrelevance.”

Is there anyone out there who runs a site who feels that weblogs really need validation any more? Three years after they exploded, with hundreds of thousands of sites in the world, talking on every subject possible? Is it really the Guardian’s place to give you permission to feel good about your medium? Bugger off. And looking around the room again, I ask you all – do you really think that the Guardian’s able to rescue us all from the ‘obscurity and irrelevance’ that we’re apparently all languishing in?

Some more interesting information can be gleaned from these couple of posts – the judges have received a list of ‘dozens’ of weblogs. Clearly this doesn’t amount to everyone who entered – when I met Simon Waldman he told me that several hundred people had entered. So who’s been written off the list before it even gets to the judges, and on what grounds? Who the hell is actually judging this thing?

I’ll tell you what – next year make the name less tendentious, conduct the competition openly and honestly, and don’t be so bloody full of what you can do for us – stop treating it as something that a superior grown-up media organisation is doing as a favour for the little tiny people – and maybe some of this year’s grumpy ‘refuseniks’ won’t be able to claim that this is more about co-opting our revolution than it is about promoting the medium… Do that, and I might even enter… In the meantime, I’m going to completely agree with Quinquireme when she says… “Look mate, you’ve totally missed the point. You’re not validating us, we’re invalidating you!”

This couldn’t happen in America. Not where they have proper pop-stars who live the lifestyle – wandering between parties and premieres with coke, drink and sexual fluids oozing from their noses. Americans know how to do things properly when it comes to stardom. Except with Anne Robinson. And Simon Cowell. But I’m getting ahead of myself…

Our evening begins, strangely enough, with a discussion between Simon and I about the state of the music industry. As bands get more and more prefabricated, and the audience they’re being pitched towards gets younger and younger – isn’t there a chance that the music industry is gradually pushing itself unsustainably towards blander, less ‘relevant’ music? How long until rhythm, lyric and melody themselves are completely sacrificed to firm, tanned boys pouting at the camera in full-on pre-teen sex-free idol-porn? Only time will tell.

Simon and I were in town to catch up with each other and watch The Bourne Identity, which was empty but diverting. And when it ended we went our separate ways. Him trainwards back to Guildford, me to the Number 6 bus-stop on Regent’s Street. And it’s clearly the bus-stop of stars, because number one recording artist and third-place Britney-murderering PopIdol Darius was also milling around there with a group of friends… After a while they wandered off, just giving me time to send a few apparently-interested-in-a-kind-of-ironic-way-but-actually-quite-excited text messages to a few dozen friends, acquaintances, co-workers and complete strangers, before my bus arrived. Truly – mine is a life of true glamour…