Yesterday, I was reading a few bloggers talking about not being able to think of topics for blogging as I flitted around the interweb.
Sometimes I think its a function of time as much as a function of ideas. The act of blogging for me is still much less than the moves of the activists reviewing, say, the upcoming Olympics and taking steps onto a street to raise their voices about injustices and reforms needed in China. Or maybe the those concerned for their futures and indirectly creating the fuel panic buying now defining that a tankful for my car costs around £85 ($170). Its all a question of degrees.
We get caught it our own little worlds and then the commodity that becomes precious is time, creating strange and personal priority lists for all of us. Add a few moments for domestic chores and the discretionary spending time available to comment or think on big topics becomes significantly marginalised.
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