How long ago did you start blogging and why did you start?

Ten years ago I began a mailing list, a zine I called Entropy Gradient Reversals. Through word of mouth, EGR eventually grew to have over 5,000 subscribers. I was working for IBM at the time I started writing that way — in a very different mode from the stuff I’d published in technical and trade and mainstream business publications. I’d published quite a bit of what I’d written, and I’d written a lot. But IBM told me I couldn’t publish anything without their permission, and I knew that, for the kind of stuff I wanted to write, such permission would never be forthcoming. I also knew they were pretty dumb about the web, and I figured they’d never find me there, so I took a chance. As it turned out, they did discover my parodies of IBM chairman-at-the-time Lou Gerstner, but I quit before they could fire me for that. I recounted much of this in The Cluetrain Manifesto — the book, not the website.

In 2000, after Cluetrain hit — and hit it did — Jack Schofield, a pal at the UK Guardian and a long-time EGR reader, asked me to do a column about blogs, which were pretty new at that time, and about which I frankly knew very little, except that I’d started one, and that I didn’t really get it myself. I felt constrained by the form, so different than the long screeds I’d been sending out to the EGR list for five years. I never did write the article for Jack, but I did do some research for it — talked to some bloggers who were pioneers in all that. One was Dave Winer, and that exchange, as you can imagine, had a lot to do with technology.

But the guy who impressed me most in the early blogging scene was my friend and co-author Doc Searls. I felt that Doc had really found his voice in the blog format. It fit him perfectly, and he was great at it. Still is. Me, I never did quite get the hang of it. I’ve blogged a ton, but I think I’ve mostly gone against the grain. My stuff is not all that popular, as such things are measured, and I understand why. I sympathize. I suppose my real calling in life is to annoy and confound as many people as I can in the short time allotted to me on this earth.

When did you first hear the word blog and what was your first impression of the idea behind it?

I recall running across something about weblogs by Cameron Barrett. It seemed he was talking about something new and exciting, but I couldn’t make head nor tails of it. To me, weblogs were those files that collect statistics about site visits and so forth. So I was like… huh? Only later did I begin to tune in to what a weblog was, as we understand that term today. I was from Missouri on the issue of what good they were. In a way I still am. But I love to blog, so I try to keep my doubts in check. Mostly by ignoring them.

Why do you think blogging is so disruptive?

I think writing is disruptive. I think democracy is disruptive. I suppose I take those inalienable truths so much for granted that I didn’t go into blogging thinking primarily about it’s disruptive aspects, though those are certainly part of the territory, part of the inevitable result. What gets disrupted, as with any writing worthy of the name, is the collective illusion that we’re all “the same” or that life is a certain way. I once blogged a one-liner that simply said: “There is no way things are.”

Mass media made us appear to ourselves like mass people. We aren’t. Blogging initially began to change that impression. However, one of the ironies today is how much of the blogging scene seems to have attempted to replicate the old regime. I suppose this always happens: here comes the New Boss — just like the Old Boss. So I get down on my knees and pray…

What is the most important aspect of a person’s blog to you? What keeps you coming back?

Hard to say. I don’t follow all that many blogs, and those I do, well… it’s pretty intermittent. I think many of us feel a little guilty in that respect. I know I do. But there it is. My personal style has never been to cover trends, topical news, current events. So I’m often well behind the curve of “what’s happening” on the net. I’m a very late adopter. And most of the time — with notable exceptions — I’m just not all that interested in the technology. Or the news. Or what’s happening in the so-called popular culture. Most of the time, I’m not interested in much of anything you could really put your finger on. So to stay alive, I have to work really hard at becoming curious about other sorts of things. I guess what I blog about tends to be a little weird and offbeat. Like what I’ve been up to at Mystic Bourgeoisie.

All that said, I often do run across blogs that knock me out. Where someone is really writing from the heart. With high humor or great pathos or that something strangely human that reminds me of my own humanity. I’m left cold by anyone trying to sound like the New Boss.

In the coming years and decades it will be increasingly hard to get a person’s attention. How can we as blogger and journalist help the consumer with this aspect?

This is essentially a question left over from the days of mainstream mass media. Personally, I don’t believe in consumers any more than I believe in the Tooth Fairy. You may not agree, but I bet that got your attention. I’m certainly not interested in “helping” bloggers or journalists or consumers to do anything in particular. Like I would know what they should do? I think it’s wonderful that so many people are writing. I think they should explore how to keep doing that and how deep they can take it. Natural language is infinite, it’s said, so the possibilities are literally endless. Who knows what will get people’s attention? Chaucer didn’t know. Shakespeare knew a little better, as he had the Globe theater as a test-bed. But he would have been surprised, I bet, at how well his stuff has fared. Ditto-and-then-some for Van Gogh, who died in poverty. What could Van Gogh have done back then to help some clueless bastard fork out millions of dollars for one of his paintings at Sotheby’s? I think if he knew, he would have done it while it still made a difference.

Where do you see blogging in 5 years?

Five years ago, blogging was just getting started. I doubt anyone grasped at that time how huge the phenomenon would become, though some of us certainly saw the potential early on. Blogging is a particular form, and that form has a lot to do with the state of the technology, which is constantly changing — and as we all know, changing with increasing speed. What I think lasts, and has lasted historically, is the human desire to communicate to other human beings, whether through writing or sound or images. Nineteenth century novelists would have had a very hard time imagining the possibilities of today’s cinema. As hard a time, perhaps — especially given the pace of change — as we have today imagining what form our communication will take in five years.

Whatever that form is (though there will always, as ever, be forms, plural), free and unencumbered access to the means of production will remain crucial. While the net is neither cost-free or totally free in the political sense, it has brought such visions closer into range. I hope we will fight to broaden those visions and more fully realize them. They are certainly endangered by both global communications conglomerates and increasingly fascistic governments.

Who do you think some of the most influential bloggers are and why?

Well, if you mean influence as it’s usually measured, then the clear answer is the Top 100 hit magnets on Technorati. No one could say, and I wouldn’t suggest, that they’re not having a lot of influence on whomever is hitting their blogs. They must, right? And the more people who hit those sites, the more people will hit those sites. In this sense, we’ve replicated the mass media model. Which is inevitable in some sense. I mean, there will always be a top-10, a top-100, in anything you can measure. It’s like fashion. Beige is the new black. Chartreuse is the new black. Whatever.

Then there’s the very different phenomenon of going to x-random site and reading something, hearing something, seeing something that changes your mind, touches your heart. It could be someone you’ve never heard of. It could be someone whose voice is just emerging. His or her real voice. Real in the sense that it cuts through all the posturing and bullshit and reminds you what you are, what we are. That kind of influence can’t be measured the same way. And it’s possible that, by measuring things that can be easily measured, we miss entirely the things that can’t be measured at all.

Why is ‘Conversation King’?

Is it? I never said that. I don’t think I ever said that. Way back in the mid-80s, Esther Dyson said that “content is king.” I don’t know if that was original with her, or if she was quoting some meme that was prevalent at the time — I suspect it was her coinage. At any rate, that was an early perception of the rising value of what people have to say to each other. Once upon a time, such “content” could be wholly defined by advertisers. The net has changed that locus of control. And yeah, that’s important. That’s huge. We can now express ourselves on the experience of being human instead of solely on the thin and none too interesting experience of being “consumers.”

It was Doc Searls, once again, who wrote “markets are conversations.” In the Cluetrain book, I wrote a whole segment on ancient markets where everyone was haggling and sharing news and gossip and telling stories and like that. I think Doc and I were on the same page in that respect. I also think, though, that there are those who would turn the equation around and assume that “conversations are markets.” I think that’s not so true. To put it a different way: inasmuch as conversations are markets, they’re less conversations.

On the other hand, maybe I’m wrong about that. If one can trace them, the semantic trade routes certainly tell us a lot about who we’ve come to believe we are.

What would you tell a blogger who is trying to figure out the journalism world?

I guess the first thing I’d suggest would be to stop worrying about it so much. The second suggestion might be to study up a bit on how journalism has evolved. Look into what Hunter Thompson really meant by “gonzo journalism” — a story unpacked in my book, Gonzo Marketing (which really isn’t so much about marketing). Look into “public journalism” — which I also wrote about in Gonzo — and what Dan Gillmor is doing in that vein on Bayosphere.

Finally, I’d suggest that the reason to look at journalism — in the many ways it’s been practiced, past and present — is to explore how to write. Good journalism is good writing. Bad journalism is bad writing. Of course, there’s always going to be debate about these values. George W. Bush appears to have a very different idea of good and bad writing than did, say, Hunter S. Thompson. But then, GWB is a fool, and HST wasn’t.

How has blogging affected your life?

The main way that blogging has touched my life is via the many wonderful and surprising people I’ve encountered through it. I encouraged quite a few folks to start blogging, but then for a while, I didn’t know they’d actually done that. Later, I’d hear from them — “you started me doing this” — and only then would I begin to learn who they were. It’s a kind of ass-backwards phenomenon, isn’t it? But it’s been a trip. In the good way. Some of these people — they know who they are — saved my life when the going got tough and I couldn’t just “turn pro.” I’ll always be grateful to them.

How can we educate the average user about blogging?

I don’t believe in average users any more than I believe in consumers. Averages, like popularity, is a numbers racket. But I’d tell anyone who isn’t blogging already and who’s the slightest bit intrigued by what it’s all about to just start doing it. The challenges of writing will present themselves immediately. And the challenges are great. Are you a fool? Are you naive? Are you saying too much? Too little? Are you bold enough to say THAT in public? Are you stupid enough? All sorts of gremlins sit on your shoulder whispering in your ear. Some are encouragements. Some are seductions. Some groundless fears. Some dangerous delusions. How a writer responds to these whisperings will determine what kind of writer he or she will become. It’s a very personal thing. My own approach is to listen carefully, then ignore all of it.

What advice would you give someone who is just starting to blog and what do you think the pros/cons of blogging are?

Write. Then write more. Write till it scares the crap out of you. If it doesn’t, press on; it will. Write till you get brave enough to keep writing in spite of how scared you are. In spite of what anyone thinks, including yourself.

The upside is that you’ll find out who you are. The downside is, well… that you’ll find out who you are.