To blog is to live. It is the act of thrusting one's naked essence into the indefinite void, of offering up one's humility and pride and passion and stupidity, one's eloquence and wit and desperation, into that by and large indifferent fog we call the blogosphere.
Why do we do it? For the momentary diversion of the few hapless strangers that might happen upon our markings in the cybersand? What real virtue lies in the exercise of virtual virtuosity?
Perhaps it is because we know deep down in our souls that there is something inexpressible yearning in us to be expressed anyway, like singing the blues during a tsunami, or playing chess with death. Is that overdramatizing what is going on with this phenomenon? How else to explain how even the most mundane narrations become peculiarly compelling once they have been bloggified!