October 28, 2004

Say Sorry Like You Mean It

Here at Dog Biting Men we’re not very nice about our competition.

I’m not talking about the faux rumble with Fighting Talk; Ben Thomas and Matt Nippert set up that self-indulgent shit-fight over a beer** while Mister Neil Falloon performed an unseemly act on Patrick Crewdsen in the bathroom. (Those Herald on Sunday folk and bathrooms…)

I mean our habit of being disrespectful to the earnest, pasty-faced white men who write almost every terrible weblog in New Zealand.

We’re sorry.

We’re sorry for giggling at the pompous prats with four readers a day who indignantly declare, “I have made the solemn decision to remove The New Zealand Herald from my list of links because I object to its biased coverage of...” Pfft.

It was thoughtless for us to suggest that the Herald might not care deeply about this carefully calculated snub, especially when planning it kept the blogger awake even after he had finished his nightly porno download.

We're sorry for suggesting nobody cares. Despite the fact many local weblogs receive absolutely no feedback, their authors should continue to believe no subject dies until they have had their say. Yes, the world is demanding to know whether you would vote for Kerry or Bush, and is aching to find out what you thought of the Orewa Speech. The world is just a bit shy about telling you. Kind of like you are with girls.

We apologise for the amusement we gain from weblog authors who recycle online news stories. The ones that provide a link, say, to a Dominion Post article about John Tamihere standing down as Minister, and then deliver incisive commentary like, "wow. A minister is standing down. This could be bad for Labour".

Dozens of New Zealand weblogs do this, on the left and right of politics. We apologise to each of them. We would never blow away the secret behind their success by revealing that Copy is CTRL X and Paste is CTRL V.

(An extra apology to the guys who not only regurgitate news, but weren’t bright enough to find it themselves in the first place. These ones link to the same story as everyone else and then say, “with thanks to Blogger So-and-So for tipping me off to the story”. Extra apologies because Mister Neil Falloon laughs extra loud at you.)

We are sorry for not joining in the orgiastic self-congratulation as local devotees celebrated the Worldwide Blog Community's expose of Dan Rather's faked documents. We foolishly thought that was similar to authors of Buffy fan-fiction celebrating the latest Booker Prize winner. We forgot it was a shared victory for the collective mind.

On a conciliatory note, we would like to acknowledge the other awesome uses to which this nerd hive-consciousness has been deployed in the past: exposing inaccurate Star Trek references and Lord of The Rings continuity errors. Wow.

[We realise the apology angle became tired about three paragraphs ago, but we’re nothing if not persistently irritating. So on we go...]

We apologise for thinking “fisking” is a ridiculous expression. (Mister Neil Falloon once tried fisking a Flipside Hottie but she slapped him in the face so hard he lost a tooth.) We’re sorry for critiquing the term “blogosphere”: we were wrong not to feel like cosmonauts in a weightless universe.

We will never laugh again at the fools who can’t spell shit. (We're being literal. We mean the people who type "shti" or "siht".) We will stop finding it funny that one person called the Labour government scantimonious.

And finally, we will stop mocking people who link to The Onion. You’re right, somebody who has managed to find your obscure and pointless weblog just might not yet have heard of the freakin

There are some people we won’t apologise to.

These are the people who, despite our best attempts to mock, we actually read and enjoy. Perhaps they can write, pass commentary without sounding like a turd, or purposefully make us laugh. (Or maybe they just have lots of readers and we’re scared that if we pick on them they will never link to us again).

Because of our jealousy we hate them even more than we hate the failures. In no particular order (other than that the complete arseholes come utterly last), they are:

Deborah Hill Cone – by Deborah Hill Cone. She glows with pregnancy and writes with zest.

In for a Penny – by Simon Pound. Bastard has a good name, too. But a weak chin.

Cracker – by Damian Christie. But his story about laser eye surgery made our stomachs turn.

Aaron Bhatnagar – by Aaron Bhatnagar. He might not be loved by voters but we don't mind him.

November 9 - by A School Teacher. He writes about life. A weird life, but it's still life. And that's good.

Hard News – by Russell Brown. A small, obscure weblog with 20 readers. Deserves a bigger following.

Fighting Talk – by Matt Nippert, Patrick Crewdsen and their parents. Wankers, the lot of ‘em.

If other local writers could aim to produce a tad more originality, we would be hugely grateful (although it will make us spend more time sitting on our chairs and less time rolling on the floor doing belly laughs).

And if any of us at Dog Biting Men could write or attract more than two readers a day, we’d try to do something original with this site rather than self-indulgent punditry, childish playfighting and sarcastic apologies.


** Ben Thomas would never be seen dead in a pub with Matt Nippert. But the bit about the bathroom might well be true.

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