I don't know why I do it, but I know I can't help it....

Now that the Boston Herald allows commenting on articles, I can't help reading them, even though they pretty much almost always escalate in to a massive train wreck.

This also happens over on Universal Hub, which I also read daily. I am not sure if Boston.com allows comments, but I don't think so.

Commenting is a weird thing to begin with. For the most part, you might as well just be yelling out your opinions at a death metal concert for all the people who are actually going to hear you.

Like on the Herald, if there is an article that sheds any negative light on cops or on firemen, you invariably get the commenter who says that all cops/firemen should be fired, clean house, all on drugs, blah blah blah.

Which then brings out the commenter who says that all cops/firemen are all hard-working, honest, god-fearing saints protecting POS's like the first commenter.

Ad nauseum.

Or like every single blog post about pedestrians & drivers that generates forty-eight billion comments about how all drivers should be killed and how all walkers should be run over.

So boring. And sometimes I wonder if commenting is sort of like talking to yourself. I certainly sometimes feel that blogging is like talking to myself. Exactly who really reads and contemplates and considers a rant posted as a comment?

Kind of like that theory about the bear crapping in the woods. Or wait, no, like that tree falling in the woods. Yeah something like that. Who really is around to hear that.

But I still can't stop reading them. It is my secret shame. Ahh the glorious, potty-mouthed, vituperative, squalor of it all.

I want to roll around in it.