". . . the people on our planet right now that I really wanna hear from aren’t the 20 and 30-something cyber-hipsters all listening to the exact same music that supposedly no one else knows about. I wanna hear from someone raised in the depression. Someone who remembers thinking that we shoulda gone into WWII much earlier or maybe not at all. I wanna hear about someone’s afternoon during the Cuban Missile Crisis. You wanna know what I really wanna read? I wanna read some old perve tell me that he had sex in all 1,384 positions the night of the Cuban Missile Crisis because he didn’t think he’d wake up the next day. . . . History is dying off as I type. Somewhere in Russia there’s an elderly lady who’s about to bite the dust as her grandson teaches himself C++ instead of teaching her how to blog about the day she realized Stalin was not the great idealist she thought he was. It’s a shame that the most valuable voices we can hear from these days won’t be heard at all."

I suspect that by posting this here, and not on the bulletin board at the nursing home down the road, I’m pretty much preaching to the choir, but Oso has hit the nail on the head. And henceforth I shall be blogging only about my childhood. . . .

Oso, incidentally, is also my Regional Editor at Global Voices, where I posted my weekly Caribbean blogosphere roundup a couple of hours ago.

Technorati Tags: blogging, global voices, history, oral history