Metablogging

Sorry for the boosterism… blame that little techno-evangelist we all carry around inside.

Anyway, it’s interesting to put a face on those words I read so often. If you have a blog, leave a comment with a link to your pic and your blog’s address, and I’ll put it up here. Same for your favorite blog, leave a comment with a link to a pic of the author and the blog’s address, and I’ll put it up here.

I’m a fan of DHH (that’s David Heinemeier Hansson, but since no one, not me for sure, can type his name correctly, he’s usually called DHH). He is the creator of Ruby on Rails, a very smart programmer, and an even smarter manager. How can you not like someone with this in his about page?

Anyway, out of a childish infatuation with his persona I’ve taken upon myself to read his blog, Loud Thinking, back to front, all 4 years of it. I’ve just read the first 24 posts from July 2001, and it has been a lot of fun.

For one thing, I feel like a scholar, tracing all the antecedents that lead to someone’s achievements, savoring the obscure details, going straight to the source, nosing around on the archives. It’s fascinating to see his development.

It also feels like if I were talking to his ghost of days gone by. Blogs are truly a new state of being (see the next post for more of that techno-boosterism). What’s surprising is how similar that ghost is to myself. How he also struggled with procrastination, also likes the same music that I like, also learned VIM, also loves to argue, also fears growing old, also has sleep disorders, also likes to pontificate once in a while.

Of course, there are also lots of differences. But I knew that already. What is amazing is how much you can have in common with someone apparently so different. One of the first bloggers I read—back in the day when reading a blog was something weird and shameful (”You read people’s diaries? What for?”)—put e.e.cummings’ Anyone lived in a pretty how town in her about page, and interpreted it as a love story between “anyone” and “noone” (here’s an interpretation in that vein). What she found tragic was how oblivious the townsfolk were to their love and grief:

So what she treasured in blogs (this is all from memory, I’ve never been able to find her blog again) was their ability to let you see behind “anyone” and “noone”. They put you in contact with people you’d probably never even meet, let alone talk to, and show you that, in the end, they’re not so different from yourself—they also struggle, love, fear, and fail, just like you do.

My favorite from those 24 first posts? Refusing to let an identity mask run my life, hands down.

Claro que es posible, pero, al menos para mi, es mas dificil. Tu afirmas tacitamente que lo que importa es el talento, no el idioma, y eso es muy cierto. Estoy seguro de que toda la jerga gringa que nos invade—jerga tecnologica, cientifica, social, y artistica—podria haberse desarrollado perfectamente en Español, en Japones, en Hebreo, o, quizas, en toki pona. Pero se desarrollo en Ingles! Y es precisamente  por que el idioma no es lo que importa, sino sus hablantes y la suma de sus talentos y creatividad linguistica¹, que el Ingles es actualmente la lengua. A principios de nuestro siglo no hay esfera mas importante, mas efervescente, ni mas creativa que la angloesfera^WP (que para mi abarca todos los hablantes del Ingles, sin importar si lo aprendieron, quizas a regañadientes, como segunda lengua). No es malinchismo, es la verdad.

Precisamente, un buen ejemplo en Español de a que me refiero con jerga es “malinchismo”. Es una palabra curiosa, llena de significado y matices para cualquier mexicano (quizas tambien para cualquier latinoamericano), pero es muy dificil de traducir a otros idiomas por ser un fenomeno cultural (tristemente) muy nuestro. La tecnologia, la ciencia, y el arte son hoy en dia, en enorme medida, fenomenos de la angloesfera (como lo fueron en su tiempo del Aleman, del Frances, del Latin, del Griego, del Sumerio, del…).

O aqui va otro ejemplo, mas alentador: como dices “trova” en ingles? No puedes. Te ves forzado a escribir trova entre comillas y explicar atropelladamente que es la trova dentro de la hispanoesfera (o simplemente confiar que tu escucha este familiarizado con ella).

Por supuesto, este tipo de palabras y conceptos no son propiedad exclusiva de la esfera que las creo. Eventualmente, otras esferas las asimilan y llegan a su vez a derivar nuevas palabras y conceptos—rocanrol es ya una palabra hispana, y mas aun rocanrolero (como dices “rocanrolero yo soy” en ingles?). La pega aqui es ese “eventualmente”. (In the long run we’re all dead, remember?)

Es por eso que me faltan palabras en Español para hablar sobre lo que yo quiero hablar—mi idioma no las sabe todavia. Me faltan palabras y me faltan interlocutores—la gente con la que quiero hablar, abrumaduramente habla ingles (muchas veces como segundo idioma, claro, pero aun asi). Le he dado pues varias vueltas al asunto y, en este momento, la conversacion que me interesa, en la que quiero participar directamente, es la de la angloesfera². Que cada quien elija, libremente, la suya.

Last time a friend asked me what a blog was, I blabbered and gesticulated madly for a long while, only to cap it off, desperate, with the safe “they’re online diaries”. As it often happens, I ended up saying exactly the opposite of what I believe. I don’t think blogs are mere online diaries. Those are a sub-genre, to be sure, but blogs are much more, and it is misleading, stifling, and plain false, to have that as their only metaphor (isn’t it overstretching to call this very blog post you’re now reading a journal entry?).

So that no one finds himself forced to betray his better knowledge again, I’ve tried to find a metaphor that outcharms the prevailing one—one that’s true and yet as simple and catchy. I think I’ve found it: Blogs are open letters.

Blogs are open letters. Compilations of written communications addressed to whoever may want to read them¹. The title of a blog post, the letter, is in fact its address, crafted to route the epistle to its many recipients (though of course Google, the post master, uses far more clever ways to deliver it). A good dose of current happenings goes in these letters, of course, but there’s much, much else: recommendations, reviews, analysis, reflections, advice, criticism, self-promotion, narrative, essays, rants, howtos, explanations, interpretations, confessions, j’accuses, press releases, calumnies, lies, exaggerations, gossip, sobs—anything that would go on a letter.

So now you know. Blogs are open letters. Spread the word (or challenge it in the comments).