Welcome to the skipped gear IQ, a series of posts in which I answer the imaginary question I’ve just thought of as I write the skipped gear IQ post that you are reading, so it’s effectively a journey of discovery for us all.
Previously I have written many other IQ posts, which can be accessed from the categories widget that you can ignore over there somewhere >>
or by following the link that you won’t bother clicking here.
Also previously, and before that even, I have written some preceding words that might seem to be both annoying and aimless to you before we get to the question. This could be misconstrued as a stalling tactic, roughly analogous to that of pledging to take some action by some faraway enough date in order to feel justified in not actually taking any real action right now; I expect you will see some examples of this elsewhere during this week.
You may be experiencing a nagging feeling that this stalling is actually taking place right now, but I will vehemently deny that accusation if you make it, although it might turn out to be completely true in the end, so I’ll probably settle out of court to keep you quiet, or failing that, vote to change the law.
IQ posts are normally a good demonstration of the theory of general relativity too, in that they take me relatively little time to write, while you generally regret the time you spent reading them
Right, let’s get to today’s question.
IQ: What is the point of your blog? Are you worried about the pretty low actual readership?
That’s two imaginary questions.
IQ: You had an extra coffee this morning.
Ah, right. OK.
Well, the blog isn’t really about anything. It’s not got a niche or an angle really. I just do any old bollocks as it comes to me and post it. I mean, I know there’s a lot going on in the world to be worried about, and I get worried about all that stuff too, sometimes unhealthily, but I see my blog generally as a place to forget all that if I can, be silly with words and all sorts of meaningless nonsense, and hopefully it’s entertaining for a couple of minutes in a reader’s day.
IQ: So you still think you have readers?
Well… OK, the claptrap I do would be going on in my head and I’d probably write it down somewhere anyway, so I don’t have to publish it. But I suppose it’s always be nice to see that there are some people who enjoy it, you know, comments and likes by real people, but it’s not really growing beyond that as such. It doesn’t worry me exactly, and I’m not really the confident sort of person to go shouting about my stuff and saying ‘Come and read this, it’s fun’ all over the place anyway.
IQ: What places? You have a Twitter account with six followers, one of whom is you under a different name, and 43 followers here, 70% of whom are pyramid scheme chancers who’ve never actually read anything you’ve ever written. And your average visits per post is about five.
You don’t exactly sweeten the pill, do you?
IQ: No, I’m rather like you in that respect.
You are me.
IQ: Oh yes… well, exactly then. Point is, you don’t do social media, like Facebook or Tokagram or anything similar really. So, as you are so unsociable yourself, and don’t get out much, perhaps you could ask readers to share any of your stuff they like? I’m sure most of them have more readers and are more popular than you.
Thank you for that. Yes, well, they could, but of course that would entail admitting to everyone that they’ve been here and they liked it.
IQ: Yeah, OK, you have a point. Oh well, at least you haven’t finished the post abruptly with your traditional rudeness this time.
If you liked this post and actually feel rather sorry for me, please consider
sharing it. That way I can perhaps top an average of 10 visits per post by 2050
I’ll be letting another weed grow every time I see a new visitor,
therefore you can happily announce you’ve offset some guilt for encouraging me.