Mercurial

I have been trying to explain to my friends all about blogging, and how interesting this little community is , and how deep emotions go. No matter, they don't seem to get it.
I need a blogging evangelist, somebody to help me spread the idea, a missioner to convert all these infidels, pagans that laugh at my idea of spending countless hours at my computer, reading about other's lives and posting my own revealed truth about politics, war and the freedom to communicate what I had for dinner.
No, my friends insist on going out to party, and drink beer and hang out at those places where fun may be had. The poor souls.
Borders is not any help either. The books by Meg Hourihan or Rebecca Blood are all gone, and there is nothing to suggest that there was once a big revolution by which everyone posted their whole life on the net, where everybody and their bosses saw it, and where whole lives were changed: Dave to Harvard, dooce out of her job, and the like.
Someone even dared mention the word fad, to which I politely responded that Justin has been blogging since 1994, and he is still going on.
Perhaps I should show them my blog. Then again, not, since it is this detachment what allows me to examine myself and them in front of everybody else.