Summary

Gutbloom, the first Tribune, delivers the "State of The Medium" speech to the Medium Senate, discussing the platform's current state, its uncertain future, and the contributions of its writers.

Abstract

In the annual "State of The Medium" address, Gutbloom, the inaugural Tribune, speaks to the Medium Senate, highlighting the platform's achievements and the dedication of its writers. Despite the success, he muses on the precarious nature of Medium's future, likening it to the whims of Fortuna, the goddess of luck. He reflects on the transient nature of the blogosphere, questioning the longevity of the platform and the fate of its content in the face of potential collapse. Gutbloom acknowledges the efforts of past contributors, some of whom have moved on, and expresses a sense of futility in the face of the ever-turning wheel of content creation. The speech is punctuated by moments of humor and philosophical musings on the nature of writing and vanity.

Opinions

Gutbloom views Medium as a successful but volatile platform, comparing its uncertain future to a pig sailing or a spoon delving into soup.
He suggests a sense of impermanence, questioning whether Medium will leave a lasting legacy or end in a catastrophic crash.
The Tribune expresses pride in the community's achievements, recognizing the diverse publications built with dedication and "brain muscle."
There is a hint of satire in the speech, with Gutbloom poking fun at the self-importance of writing on the platform, referring to it as "vanity."
Gutbloom's speech implies a cyclical nature to the blogosphere, with writers coming and going, and the platform persisting despite these changes.
The address includes a humorous adaptation of the song "Turn! Turn! Turn!" emphasizing the constant change within the Medium community.
Gutbloom concludes with a sense of resignation, suggesting that despite the uncertainties, one must continue to write and participate in the blogosphere.

The State of Medium Address

Blackington, Alton H.. James Michael Curley giving speech, ca. 1925. Alton H. Blackington Collection (PH 061). Special Collections and University Archives, University of Massachusetts Amherst Libraries

[Edit: The following is the “State of The Medium” speech delivered by the first Tribune, Gutbloom, before the Medium Senate.]

9:01 EDT

Gutbloom: Mx. Speaker, Vice President Thor Heyerdahl, Senators, distinguished citizens, and fellow Medihumans… both members and non-members: Every year, by law and by custom, we meet here to consider the state of the blogosphere.

There is nothing new under the sun. Especially not this address, which is almost the same thing, word for word, that I said three years ago at the dedication of the Mushamaguntic Normal School. None of you were there, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

I was expecting applause after that line.

[Applause]

What’s a political speech without some idiotic hand clapping?

[Silence]

Friends… both members and non-members… our platform has green eyes. They have made the brick fly, but now we must wonder how far this pig can sail, or how deep into the soup the spoon might go?

[Many senators and those in the gallery looked confused and started to talk among themselves — Eds.]

What I mean to say is that Medium is a going concern, but many of you, rightly, may be wondering when the goddess Fortuna, hounded by creditors… her dress in tatters at the hands of rabid venture capitalists, might bend over and rip the surge protector out of the wall. Is it any wonder that some of us speculate on the size of the crater this platform will make when it augers? Will we still have a home among the ashes? What confidence can we share that there will be a place for us to scrawl doggeral in the smoking ruin of the Medium aftermath?

Perhaps in place of contemplating such conundrums we should be backing up our vanities and packing our bug-out-bags.

We came here. We cut the digital sod. We tamed the ethereal prairie and spotted the landscape with publications both humble and grand. Some were simple and some were ornate, but all were made with blood, sweat and sinew. And by “sinew”, I mean mental sinew. Like brain muscle. Those publications were made with brain muscles and… brain tendons. Do you have tendons in your brain? [The Tribune turned to the people on the side of the stage with his palms uplifted — Eds.] I feel like I have tendons in my brain. Is that not right?

There were many who toiled and then moved on, their efforts now enriching both the wise and foolish. It is right and just that we name them:

Timothy J. O’Neil

Please feel free to add your own names silently or in the comments below.

[An aide came forward and whispered something to Gutbloom. He waved the aide away]

Some of the academic Lilliputians who “advise” me have pointed out that if the name is in green, those writers are around here somewhere. What I mean is that they are not here, here. They were here, but they have, for the most part, moved into the West, and so we sing the song of both member and non-member Mediumans:

To everything; churn, churn, churn Forget the reasons; churn, churn, churn A time for Fritos A time for Pie A time to live And a time for Frito pie And everything else under Evan

I know the song doesn’t scan that well. It works much better in the original binary.

One generation goes, and another comes, but the blogosphere remains. The fingers aren’t satisfied with a page of writing. Vanity of vanities… all is vanity.

What has been done is what will be done, and a living dog is better than a dead lion. What else is there to do but eat, drink, and post dreck?

At least for another season.

(At this point the Tribune removed a flask from his pocket and drank from it. He then stared at the audience for a long time before saying…)

That’s all I’ve got.

[Applause]

Thank you. May the Flying Spaghetti Monster bless you and our fair blogosphere. Keep writing.

Others in this series:

The 2016 State of Medium Address

The Commencement Address