Blog, Blogger, Bloggiest

I hate the word blog. It sounds vulgar, too onomatopoetic – blerg, bloog, blurp, blog. A blog sounds likely something terrible and unbecoming, like a poop or a toot.

“Do you blog?”

Yes, but we don't have to talk about it.

I have only recently acknowledged my discomfort with the word. It happened subtlely.

“Do you blog?”

To which I would reply, “Yeah, I have a website.” I wouldn't repeat the word, but I didn't bear it ill will.

The term was still coming into its own, and I thought maybe I'd grow accustomed to it, like “email” or “URL.” When William Safire wrote about the word “blog” in the New York Times Magazine, I felt so informed about the word that I didn't bother to read what he wrote. I had started my own weblog at (my graphic interface is, still and proudly, “Blogger Template 3 – Modern”) and even though I can be an uninformed Luddite – even as I write this I wonder how many others have written about their distaste for this word – my friend Lane is terrifically in the know about these things, and he has introduced me not only to the guy who invented Blogger but also the guy who, allegedly, coined the term, Peter Merholz, who wrote that he would call his weblog “a wee blog, or blog for short.” How strange, then, when a toss-off becomes the term of authority, something that may show up in the OED one day. And if so, will they cite Peter's weblog? And how? Hmm. Maybe I should have read that William Safire column after all. Maybe I should have asked Peter himself, instead of telling a long and involved story about purchasing lard and later demanding, rather rudely, that he buy me a drink. (So much regret.)

At SXSW Interactive, which just ended yesterday, I heard the term relentlessly. Blog this, blog that, blog blog blog. I think I may have skipped the panel on Bloggers just to avoid the word.

“Do you blog?”

Well, I do. Technically. But I like to think of it as writing, if you want to know the truth. Is there any other option besides a blog? Something between writing and blogging – blighting, perhaps.