I won’t attempt any presumptuous education on how blogging evolved from commentary-cum-linkfests to a pervasive phenomenon that is almost perverse.

Blogging gave me a heady thrill when I began about six years ago. In many ways, it was a playground where I toyed with all of its aspects with a desperate regularity. I churned out posts that in retrospect, are less than juvenile with again, the same desperation.

What however, attracted me the most was the absolute lack of rules. I could write with abandon, tear down opinions, and damn anybody who made no sense but got published because he/she was a “popular,” “respected” figure. I could call them morons, idiots, twits, imbeciles… and I positively delighted myself indulging in such evil pleasure.

And suddenly, the party-spoilers gatecrashed. It was never the same again.

These were a curious bunch of people who insisted on a “blog model”–an oxymoron: remember my remark about how there are no rules in blogging?were appalled at my name-calling, and generally thought that it was positively disgusting to use such language–and no, I’ve never resorted to profanity on my blog, Mother’s Promise.

I realized gradually, that these gentlemen were mostly academics and journalists who graduated, or were forged in the Indian School of Liberals. They insisted that linguistic finesse, politeness, gentility, refinement, taste, sobriety, and temperance take precedence over reasoning and logic when one debates. In other words, it is perfectly okay to present absolute bullshit (whoopie, whoops! I didn’t use that word.), only it should be vestured in prim-no-propah language.

That spoilt it for me.

For days after one specific attack, I ruminated, carefully, elaborately, deeply, before writing a post. Was my tone offensive? Did I just write “moron?” Was I coming on too strong? Will my readers disapprove? Does that phrase sound a trifle impolite?

What was I doing?

I realized I was playing the game by the rules set by these gentlemen in a game–blogging–where no rules are defined. Over the next few weeks, the Liberal eminences I discovered, bled for everybody, everything, and mostly for non-reasons. They insisted that there was an injustice even when there was none. Perfectly okay, to each his own. But it feels squeamish when they argue that we insist similarly.

However, it’s not too late, all is not lost. My blog’s (original) now-defunct tagline read: political correctness is for sycophants. My salvation from this crib-fest is to revert to it in the spirit I conceived it.

End Notes:

• I haven’t taken any names here because I don’t want to get into the same old, endless comment exchanges that I had with these worthies. Readers familiar with my blog know what I mean.
• Here’s a great blog: full marks for its irreverence and in the same vein, not recommended for the faint-hearted or those who take themselves too seriously. That said, I don’t agree with everything he says.

Cross-posted in Desicritics