A New Obsession
My husband sometimes jokes that it would be cheaper if I was addicted to drugs instead of books. He says it good-naturedly, of course, as he is happy to indulge my biblioholism, knowing that there is much knowledge in books and our children are receiving a first-rate education.
I have to confess that I have another obsession, one which I am admirably keeping under control, but I do have to work at it. I like reading weblogs.
I have been blogging (as those of us who participate in this new and growing sport like to call it) for almost two years, although I didn’t start posting regularly until recently. I was introduced to this pasttime by my son, Hans, who used to have his own blog until he became busy with other pursuits. Hans was once even profiled in an article in the San Francisco Comical (I mean, Chronicle) because of his interest in weblogs.
Although I have been posting to my weblog for quite awhile, it is only recently that I have begun perusing the postings of other bloggers. Once you stumble upon a decent weblog produced by someone with whom you have things in common, it is all too easy to locate other similar blogs through the inevitable links. Of course, they have other intriguing and alluring links, and before you know it, you are caught in the whirlpool.
The phenomena of weblogging is growing by leaps and bounds. Everyone with a hankering to write has jumped on the bandwagon (including yours truly). Many weblogs have a focus on a specific subject. Mine is often about books and home schooling. Others may be political, theological or technical in nature. My techno-genius husband likes to read one called Slashdot. I often visit Izzy Lyman at The Homeschooling Revolution. One of the most interesting types of weblogs is the personal blog.
Reading this particular genre of punditry is rather like peeking in people’s windows. It can be very interesting to read about other people’s families, foibles and follies. I am surprised, however, at how much personal information some people are willing to divulge on the internet. As my husband likes to remind me, putting something on your webpage is like writing it on the wall in a public bathroom. I’m also amused at some of the boring details people want to divulge about themselves (go ahead and flame me anytime I do this…ouch, that’s hot!) Of course, the internet is capitalism at its best. If it’s boring, don’t read it. That may not always work, however. Here is a blog that appears to be quite successful, judging by its comments, even though it is the dullest blog in the world (thanks to Sword and Sickle Journal for the link).
I have considered putting a list of my favorite personal weblogs in the sidebar of this page. I have found some which are delightful and informative. But they all have other links to more interesting sites, and I would hate to be responsible for the breakup of anyone’s marriage due to computer addiction. So, I’ll think about it. Maybe if you promise to practice self-control and sign a paper promising to not hold me legally responsible for dinner being late. We’ll see.
April 9th, 2003 at 7:39 am
I am surprised, however, at how much personal information some people are willing to divulge on the internet. As my husband likes to remind me, putting something on your webpage is like writing it on the wall in a public bathroom.
A public bathroom where they never paint over the writing. It doesn’t occur to some webloggers that the words they write will probably never, ever disappear from the internet … and that they may not like it when potential bosses, friends, or spouses stumble across the silliness that seemed so quirky, engaging, even profound when they wrote it years back.
April 9th, 2003 at 7:43 am
I have to take exception to your use of the term "biblioholism" and "biblioholic" in reference to yourself. I don’t for a minute believe that you are a biblioholic, rather, you are a bibliophile. According to Tom Raabe in his book, _Biblioholism: The Literary Addiction_ and Nicholas Basbanes in several of his books, a biblioholic is a person who obsessively collects books, just to own the books, but doesn’t care to read them. It’s more of a covetousness than a desire for knowledge. But a "bibliophile" earnestly desires to *read* books in order to acquire the knowledge/wisdom contained therein. In other words, bibliophiles are readers, and biblioholics are, well, boasters and hoarders. You are *not* a biblioholic!
April 9th, 2003 at 8:49 am
Laura, I think Mom qualifies as a bibliophile AND a biblioholic. I mean, she buys the books because she earnestly desires to read them and acquire the knowledge/entertainment that lies within them, yet at the same time she "covetously" desires to own every book that she sees that she thinks might have any worth (worth in the sense of the presence of knowledge, not necessarily worth because of monetary value).
If it relates to books, then it’s probably an applicable tag for Mom.
April 9th, 2003 at 9:33 am
What about "musty," Pieter?
Thank you for clarifying the distinction, Laura. Although, Pieter may be right that both words describe me to a certain extent. I buy more than I can ever read, hoping that one of the many other bibliophiles in this household will benefit thereby.
Rick, every word I write here is written with fear and trembling. You are absolutely right about future words coming back to bite you! Disclaimer: As for quirky, engaging or profound, if I ever actually express any ideas which fit into any of those categories, it is purely by accident.
April 9th, 2003 at 10:13 am
"My ancient tome of a mother?" Right?
April 10th, 2003 at 4:52 am
"If it relates to books, then it’s probably an applicable tag for Mom."
Well, Pieter, then I have another definition or description for you to enjoy and see if it applies to your dear "musty" mother. From psychoanalyst Norman Weiner (what do those guys know, anyway?), a description of a "bibliomaniac": A person with an inordinate desire for books who will pursue a volume in an active or seductive way; he will use intrigue and stealth; he will hazard his fortune and he will journey around the world, or even marry for the gain of a coveted book.
Please tell me your mother did not marry your father for his good books! (Sorry for that oblique pun; couldn’t resist!)