There’s something about the word “blog” that makes me laugh. It sounds like a made-up word (and I suppose it is) that belongs more appropriately in a Batman comic strip:  ZIP! BAM! BLOG! It’s almost hard to take it seriously. We have lots of other words that describe putting one’s thoughts on paper:  journal, diary, memoir, column, op-ed, white paper, novel. None of these words is nearly as funny as “blog.”

What isn’t funny is the impact that blogs are having on society. We’re besieged by blogs: blogs for myspace,  news and  sports blogs, Christian blogs, blogs for neopets. (Neopets? Seriously?) Technorati counts over 119 million blogs. Who has time to read all that? Who has time to write it?

Having read my share of blogs, I sometimes wonder why I bothered to get a journalism degree. After all, Bubba  Junior – who lives, at age 40, in his mother’s basement and blogs about sci-fi movies for a living –  didn’t spend years learning AP style or studying the repercussions of NY Times v. Sullivan. In fact, he has trouble composing a simple sentence without a grammatical error. But he’s read by (potentially) millions of people. Despite having spent years writing for newspapers and magazines, I haven’t reached nearly the audience he has. Am I worried that Bubba is going to take my job? Not really. What does bother me is that Bubba and the millions of others like him are setting the standard for what could be considered journalism in the future. That’s a scary thought.

Nevertheless, you have to get on the train or get run over by it. So, move over, Bubba. I’m buying a ticket to the blogosphere. And I’ve got my stylebook handy.