Could I be any more melodramatic? Probably. The truth is that this blog isn’t necessarily about the destiny of the b(itch)log to fail, so much as it is just a blog about why I won’t ever be featured on Freshly Pressed. Wordpress suggested it might Freshly Press me if I come up with a catchy title, though, so I tried…
For those of you not hip to the lingo of the blog-o-sphere (and you may all shoot me if I utter such atrocities as blog-o-sphere again), Freshly Pressed is the daily showcasing of what WordPress considers the cream of the crop, so to speak, of recent postings on blogs hosted by the Internet giant. It claims to be showcasing those besties for today, when in reality the majority of the Freshly Pressed blogs I have read are – on average – a week old. But let’s not bicker over mere days, what I want to really do is bicker about who gets Freshly Pressed and why.
For a while, being showcased on the front page of WordPress was one of my ultimate goals. I started this because I attended a writers meeting where the speaker said that her blog had been Freshly Pressed; only to my dismay, I learned later that while the blog had, in fact, been featured, the topic was something many of us would rather not have learned about: the graying of her pubic hair. (That is an image now forever burned in my head, thanks Freshly Pressed.) For a while, I even researched what I could do, and of course went by the guidance of the WordPress editors. They said to post good content, I posted good content. They said no typos, I triple-checked my work. They said original photos, or at least a credit, and I did everything they wanted. And yet after weeks and months of trying, I still was never featured.
Of course, with over 370,000 bloggers, tallying close to 500,000 daily posts, of course it would seem rare form for me to expect to be featured on Freshly Pressed. Surely there are gads of writers much better than me out there, posting topics much more relevant than things like literature, marriage advise, and carmageddon. I was convinced that the odds were just too stacked against me: too many good writers, mixed with too many uninteresting posts by me. And then I visited Freshly Pressed last week to find that they had posted a blog about some random guy’s completely mundane and uninteresting week. It was so boring that I don’t even remember what he did: something like take a bus to work and run away from someone because they had a bee on their sleeve. The guy didn’t even credit his stolen pictures – every bit of the blog flew in the face of what WordPress says not to do; he even had a few misspelled words.
Now, it’s possible that WordPress has a computer which randomly selects blogs to showcase. This seems plausible given the basic fact that blogs on graying pubic hair and some random guy’s week don’t exactly warrant the titles “cream of the crop.” Really, I’d lke to think it’s more than that, though. I like to imagine people at WordPress reading my blogs every time I post them and saying “well … there it is … another post we can’t feature!” Here are the reasons I like to think why:
I never take my own pictures.
It’s true. I don’t. Never. I think maybe two of my blogs – ever – have contained photographs that have actually been taken by my phone, other than that they are always stolen from other places on the Internet. I always follow the WordPress rules of crediting (be it underneath the photo, or on the direct photo link), but I never take my own photos. Why, you ask? Because unlike the rest of the world, I don’t believe I am a professional photographer just because I own a digital camera and a nice camera phone. Unless it’s a topic that I can emphasize with one of the many random photos I do take on my camera phone (most of which my faithful blog followers will not understand anyway), I prefer a nicer, cleaner photo, or a video. Hey, that’s just me … I don’t hold delusions of grandeur.
I swear a lot.
It’s true. I do. Always. My blog’s homepage even includes the word “bitch” (even though it’s intended to be a play on the word blog – b(itch)log). Something I realized recently is that the most intelligent people I know swear, and swear often. In all honesty, we could wax philosophical on this one, because they are just words. Just because colloquially they are considered bad by a group of old ninnies who still think “poppy-cock” is offensive does not actually make them bad. And anyway, I don’t say anything that doesn’t find its way on primetime cable.
I’m honest and talk about things people don’t care about.
Yep. I am honest, brutally so. And people don’t care about a lot of the things I talk about, even though they should. Why would I be featured on Freshly Pressed when I talk poorly of planking and owling, when probably the last month has featured at least five or six blogs on the excitement of the ridiculous Internet trends? And why would I be selected to be featured when more than half of my blogs are more misanthropic than anyone should be? Honesty and educated topics are not what people want. Gray pubic hair is.
The truth in it all is that either the computer isn’t randomly selecting me, or the editors at WordPress just really don’t think there is anything special about my writing. Maybe they even think it’s downright bad. Am I bitter? I was at first. I was outright resentful; possibly I still am. In truth, I think that not being Freshly Pressed has given me to the impetus to keep blogging. Not that I think I will ever be Freshly Pressed – but as a matter of proving that in at the end of the popularity contest, it’s always the nerds and unwanteds that wind up the most successful. So my blog is doomed to fail at the game of WordPress’s Freshly Pressed front page “cream of the crop”athon… but to be honest, gray pubic hair lady and the pansy who ran away from the bee are not my kind of crowd anyway.