"Oh, and it's a hollow feelin' when
It comes down to dealin' friends
It never ends..."
- Eagles, Tequila Sunrise
By DAN McLANAHAN
BROWNSVILLE, Texas - Local history will record that it was an unusually cold day in December of 2010, when the spike in bloggers and blogging began to wane here. Gone on extended break was Melissa Zamora's peppy blog, BlogginAllThingsBrownsville, as was an inane effort by some clown who'd named his headache of a blog The Merovinigian, and leaving was my initial effort here, Brownsville Garbage, a sentient tale of woe and more woe. Somewhere in there, a few others died, like PoliticalOutsider and that forgettable piece of crap by perennial loser political candidate Roman Perez. Cafe Brownsville, by football stadium gopher Chris Davis, passed without notice. And even Juan Montoya's oddly-named El Rrun Rrun left for a time, when he was ordered to county jail for months.
Blogging here, it is said in quiet bars, sucks.
"The biggest fool is Jim Barton!" yelled a patron at Larry's Touchdown Dive on Central Boulevard. "That guy ends up pissing me off and never informing me of serious news shit. I heard he had a heart attack, but that he's back online. Why! Waste of life for that clown. Big waste!"
The bar quickly exploded into a series of shotgunned shouting matches, with patrons opining on their favorite blogs and on those they just hated. A waitress ducked behind the bar and trembled when a heavyset man slid off his bar stool and began screaming: "Blimp is the worst fucker on there! If you try to read his stories your brain goes numb! Fucking slop is what he's dealing. I'd like to run into him someday, but they say he never really comes out except to go to the VA clinic! Useless is his middle name."
A song by the Mexican group Bronco burst out of the jukebox even though no one had seen anyone head over and plunk his six quarters. "Hey!" someone hollered, pointing at it. "Ya'll see that? It started playing on its own!"
"Yeah," came another cry from a table near the front door. "It's the God of Blogging telling ya'll to shut the fuck up! Blogging in this town is dead! And has been for years! Those guys are just doing it cause it's some sort of addiction, is what I hear!"
"If they're not pecking away at their computer keyboards, they're hitting you up for cash in the hall of the courthouse or eating free grub at the political pachangas! These idiots don't give a shit about Brownsville! I know one of them and that guy just laughs at the others. He says Barton doesn't have to brains to explain anything half-complicated. I believe it!"
Smoke had filled the bar and no one was moving. Cigarettes were being passed around as if a collection plate in church. "It's about time we talked about blogging here, yeah!" shouted another boozer. "Bloggers say our newspaper ain't shit! You all believe that! Bloggers lie like sonsabitches. Oh, I have some documents coming! And, oh, I'm one source short of hanging this school administrator! And, oh, I'm waiting on the attorney general to rule on this before I go for legal action! Goddamned eunuchs! I would laugh if were not so sad, shit!"
It was almost closing time and everybody had stopped to take a deep breath. The elections had come and gone. Potholes were being fixed. The weather had turned oppressive, and the hottest rumor in town was that SpaceX was in financial trouble after a series of rocket explosions in Florida. Smallish, brown-skinned kids sporting faces full of dreams were suiting up to play high school football again.
Like the bloggers, their quest for greatness was doomed.
In the case of the high school football players, it was their size and speed, or lack of it, that ultimately would spell defeat. For the bloggers, it was clear and unquestionable lack of writing talent...
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