I always thought blogs were one of the most offensive things to arise from the information age. Suddenly, millions of people got the idea in their head that they had something worth spewing at everyone else. Ideas, recipes, pictures of their kid they’re sure a billion other people actually want to look at as much as they do. Whatever. The harsh reality is nearly all those people are no more interesting than they were when they were sitting around reading the newspaper in their underwear in 1991. Me included.
So, when I first moved to Japan and I heard from every direction the vile suggestion of “You should start a blog about your adventure!” I’d just swallow my rage, nod politely, and answer vaguely, “Mm. Maybe so.” After all, I reasoned, Japan is full of gaijin fawning over vending machines and instant noodles and kimonos in their vlogs and blogs. Why would I want to join them?
And yet, here I am.
So, why start one now, more than three years on, when I was faring perfectly well without subjecting the internet to my bullshit? Well, for one, Facebook sucks worse (I’ll probably get to more on that eventually).
For two, as they say, a man’s got to do something with his time.
Finally, it’s because my creative energy really took a nose-dive after having a kid and the ideas that were once churning around in my head like an over-filled dryer about to burst into flames all melted away into an infinite void of diapers and crying and half-formed ideas stuck in waxy exhaustion. Now that he’s four and a half and in kindergarten maybe forcing myself to do something that pisses me off as much as blogging will loosen the goo and set me on the path of at least having a few creative ideas again, and a platform I can pretend to share them on.
And anyway, of the ten thousand or more blogs and vlogs made by foreigners who have spent their lives trying to fulfill their dream of living in Japan, there’s probably not nearly so many made buy a mostly-stay-at-home dad who never gave two shits about moving to Japan in the first place. I don’t hold any more or any less contempt for the people and culture around me than I did when I lived anywhere else, and just maybe the Internet could use a little more of that kind of perspective.
And if nobody outside a handful of friends and relatives ever reads anything here, I’m no worse off then I was before, even if they might be.
Hell, I’ll probably even throw in some pictures of vending machines and vending machine facts at some point, because fuck if they aren’t kind of interesting.