I wish I got more comments, or do I?

Obviously, not many people read this blog, and even fewer ever comment on it (Hi Keith, Hi Clive!). But do I really want more? Let's return to Victoria Coren. She's got a lightweight, amusing piece in today's Observer, about the experience of first love. It's not earth-shattering, but it's not meant to be.

And at precisely 1.04 am some insomniac grump using the name Erda wrote:

What on earth is the point of this rubbish?

Let's try to understand what's going on in Erda's head. Sleeplessly scanning tinternet at 1am he (I'm going to assume it's a man) sees a picture of Vicky, who's attractive enough, with the caption "Ah, first love... lots of Steven Berkoff and no snogging", and has to click on it. But, oh the disappoinment! Maybe the problem was not enough Berkoff (rhyming slang is a wonderful thing). "Rest assured, I was on the internet within minutes, registering my disgust throughout the world". Thank you, Erda, you opened my eyes.

Later, another contributor, chrisjwmartin, says, quoting Vicky

"Here I am, still unmarried and childless at... well, let's just say that I'm a lot younger than John Cleese's most recent girlfriend, but a lot older than she pretends to be."
You were born in 1973, luv. We all have access to Wikipedia.

There's someone who really understands comedy, yes? Really love that 'luv', too.

Whenever I read readers' comments on the Guardian, I despair. It's worse than the Daily Mail, where at least you know what to expect. But on the Guardian, it seems people line up to snipe and sneer at people who are, let's face it, more talented than they will ever be. Just try writing an amusing and original column on a regular basis. I know I can't do it.

So perhaps my obscurity is safer. Let the snipers and sneeryboys stay hidden among the crowd on CiF.