Death, dying and blogging
Had an interesting conversation the other day. I mentioned how the recent death of regular reader Straightarrow had me all kinds of depressed. Losing folks you never even met is saddening. And, well, over the years we’ve lost a few. And someone said to me But these friends you never meet, what’s the difference between death and just stopping reading? would we ever know?
That weirded me out a bit.
Obviously, if you get word of someone’s death, then you know. But there are people who used to read and comment and show up in all manner of places on the internet. And, now, they don’t. I’d like to think they’re all happy and healthy and just found something better to do. But you never really know.
July 29th, 2010 at 1:08 pm
I’ve often wondered the same thing. I started my blog 4 years ago. There are several bloggers and commentators from the early times that simply no longer exist. You’ve got to wonder sometime.
My wife is technologically impaired. If I passed, my blog would probably run until someone shut down a server or the domain expired.
No way I’m writing a death script to post something should I fail to attend to it for a while, that would just be too creepy.
July 29th, 2010 at 1:11 pm
What’s even creepier are facebook pages of people who have died.
July 29th, 2010 at 2:01 pm
I guess even getting that many readers that you contemplate this shows you hit the big time, so be happy = )
July 29th, 2010 at 2:39 pm
This sometimes happens with library patrons. For a while, perhaps years, they’ll be a regular fixture at a computer or sitting at the same table every morning reading the newspaper. Then one day you notice they’re missing and you can’t remember when it was you saw them last. Did they move away? Did they die? Did they get a home computer?
And I suppose being librarians, we could do a little research and find out what happened. Instead we usually choose the mystery – it hurts less.
July 29th, 2010 at 3:26 pm
Just call them Schroedinger’s blog readers.
July 29th, 2010 at 4:08 pm
Here’s another funny one. Citizen Quasar used to haunt my comments all the time, bringing teh epic crazee. He dropped off for a while, and then this happened:
http://www.wired.com/threatlevel/2009/04/twitterraid/
July 29th, 2010 at 4:12 pm
I think it is always a little sad to hear some one you knew, however you knew them, as entered the final mystry. We are so insulated from death every one is precious. While I do some prep for a meaner time, I hope we never see it in this country.
July 29th, 2010 at 4:50 pm
Unc,
It happens on bulletin boards, too. I started out over at Time Online (a.k.a. Pathfinder) in the mid 1990s (where I would eventually meet Ricky, who started North Georgia Dogma -> Toys in the Attic, where I got my blogging start).
During the time that bulletin board was active (about 4-5 years), we lost easily a dozen members or more. We lost more over the following years, getting an e-mail out of the blue at an old e-mail account; now finding out through Facebook that someone is gone.
I think it’s pretty amazing that we touch each other’s lives, sometimes without ever meeting. Al Gore must be proud of this invention of his…
July 29th, 2010 at 6:13 pm
The corollary to your friend’s question would be; “From the point of view of the readers, what is the difference if a blogger dies or just stops writing?”
I blog, not that hardly anyone is reading it, but for those few, if I just never posted again, how would they know?
July 30th, 2010 at 3:03 am
Look here http://xkcd.com/686/
To be honest, there are so many things you probably won’t ever know.
Life can suck pretty hard.
July 30th, 2010 at 11:26 am
I’m not dead yet. Read you everyday.
July 31st, 2010 at 1:35 am
I’m on several support sites for folks dealing with a chronic disease, generally fatal in the fourth decade if life if untreated. About a third get transplants, and of those about half die within 3 months. Most are on heavy med routines, infusions weekly, with oxygen 24/7. Over a two year meeting cycle the group replaces 85% of the local members as more advanced die off and younger, newer diagnosed folk join. Makes it difficult to attend the meetings when you’ve outlived all but one from when you joined 5 years ago.