Not such a profound point, but a thought? It pays to reflect and pause for thought about what this blog is for. A few rules I've pretty much stuck by. Be honest, be loyal, be kind.
But it's defined by what it must not be about. It must not be about private things that must stay private: family, relationships, problems and health.
It's not one of these anonymous confessional blogs that quickly run out of steam, so I have to be accountable to everything that's in it. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. So it must be true and accurate.
It's not about work, so all manner of business issues are out of bounds. And I don't talk about what I do at work and people I work with, either at Insider or in other things I'm into. There's no danger of a breach of confidentiality.
So what's left? The rest, basically. The journey to work, the stuff that's around us, Marple - this smashing place where we live, the boundaries of parenthood, the stuff on the telly, the Rovers, food, the great city of Manchester, the home county of Lancashire, a little bit of politics. The good bits of family life you want to share, but don't want to bore people with - I hope it's never been like one of those Christmas letters that Simon Hoggart compiled in a book. A few blog posts start just as a story to my Dad starts when he phones to ask - "what have you been up to this week, son?"
The namedropping thing is just a laugh and absolutely not to be taken too seriously. I only go out of my way to get a gurning picture to put in here's me with with someone vaguely famous for the purpose of putting it on here.
Once you cross that line into doing a blog there's a certain acceptance of a degree of narcisissm. The arrogance that comes from believing that what you are doing will be read and appreciated by someone else. It's a strange thing to want to do, but then in 1982, with a pair of scissors, a typewriter, a tube of glue and a steamy head full of inarticulate attitude I put together a fanzine called Positive Feedback and sold it at school, in a record shop and at gigs. What was the point? Exactly.