So, if it’s such a fantastic way to encourage bloggers, why is the response rate to nominations close to zero? So far, I’ve nominated a total of 28 blogs and only one—fellow fountain pen enthusiast Jack Spratt—decided to pass the award through. That’s a whopping 3.57% response rate! (Disclaimer: I’m neither upset nor bitter.) [Edit: Xarglebook apparently responded as well, increasing the response rate to 7.14%.]
Ladies and gentlemen, the third award for this blog is in! This is my favorite so far; this weekend I’ll show you why.
For now, I’ll just say it’s a great way to celebrate up-and-coming bloggers—in line with the mission of this blog. If you’re interested in the history of the Liebster Award, click here.
Thank you Susan T. Sweeney for nominating me. I’m simply going to steal her description:
[It's] like a chain letter. You nominate blogs with less than 200 followers, ask them 11 questions. Have them post 11 facts about themselves, and then you nominate 11 blogs (also providing them with your own questions). Then thank the person who nominated you. From what I can tell it’s a cool informal way to say ‘I think your blog is interesting and fun, good job.’
If you haven’t already, please check her blog for more interesting quotes and images like this:
Unfortunately, it’s not always easy. I know that the “necessity” to settle into a routine, to choose job security over job satisfaction, can prevent you from doing what you love. You drift further away from your Element each day, thinking it’s the safest route to take—while the opposite is true. Continue reading →
In his 1946 essay, George Orwell warned us that inflated prose can muddy our writing so badly its meaning becomes vague. Pretentious diction, it seems, serves no other purpose than to make the writer appear more important and knowledgeable.
The writer either has a meaning and cannot express it, or he inadvertently says something else, or he is almost indifferent as to whether his words mean anything or not. This mixture of vagueness and sheer incompetence is the most marked characteristic of modern English prose, and especially of any kind of political writing.
Another George, the legendary George Carlin, didn’t need a lengthy essay to express the same concern. Filled with Carlin’s typical charm and wit, this hilarious performance is guaranteed to both educate and entertain:
As a final note, considering the current state of humanity, I think we could use more people like both Georges.