I can’t decide if it’s worth it or not to try liveblogging the Vice Presidential debate tomorrow night. Joe Biden has a solid track record of at least one completely insane statement per public appearance, and Palin appears to be a big, flaming bag of whackjob incompetence. It could be comedy gold, and a lot of fun to write about. On the flip side, the candidates’ aggregate bat-shittery should be impressive enough on its own, and might not gain much from my commentary.

It might be worth it just to wait and embed the video of the best moments.

What do you think?

There are lots of folks who write about blogging. There are even people who make money teaching technologically backward management types how to do the blogs as part of their marketing strategies.

All of these people who analyze blogging, whether as a hobby or a business, have a vicious, barbed-stinger of a bee in their collective bonnet about interactivity. The way to get repeat readers, they say, is to swallow the sticky-sweet Web 2.0 bug juice, and give your visitors as many opportunities as possible to participate in the content of the blog that you naively call “yours.”

You’re not all that interesting, the thinking seems to be. Nobody really cares about your opinions/high school poetry/suicide note. The secret to getting people to pay attention is to share the spotlight. The same fundamental narcissism that led you to blogging in the first place makes it nigh impossible for your readers to resist the opportunity to share their analysis of your sad blathering.

Give your readers a comment section. Give them message boards and a fan site where they can spout off about your latest entry. Let them caption your photos, and submit links to their own blogs. Like a spectral baseball team to a remote rural field, they will be irresistibly drawn by the chance to plant their flags in your little electronic kingdom.

Above all, they say, ask questions. Engage your readers by directly asking for their input. They will answer before they’ve even finished the question, so in thrall are they that you asked them to weigh in. They’ll sit in their underwear, F5-ing compulsively until they pass out from exhaustion, in the hopes that someone will respond to their clever observations, witty one-liners or slightly naughty opinions. Questions are the irresistible siren song of the Internets, and those lonely, half-mad cyber-sailors will dash themselves en masse on the jagged rocks of your blog.

Except for you. Asking a question around here is like puking in a crowded elevator. Everybody clears out at the earliest opportunity.

I like to think that you’re an iconclast. You sneer at the pundits, and scoff at my transparent attempts to solicit your input. Good for you, I say. Just because some doofus can manage to wear a suit AND work a tablet PC, doesn’t mean he should get to tell you how to consume blogs.

Then again, maybe I’m really not all that interesting. Perhaps I need to swear more?

Poll after poll tells us that a good chunk of voters in this country are still “undecided.” To those of us who pay any attention to politics at all, the differences between the candidates seem to be eye-stabbingly huge. It’s hard to fathom how anyone could have a difficult time picking one or the other. If you’re one of those undecided voters, here are a few questions that might help direct your thoughts on your choice for president.

1. What’s your problem?
2. Are you now, or have you ever been, so high that you’ve eaten 83 cents worth of change from out of your sofa before realizing that it wasn’t old bits of corn chips?
3. Have you ever been diagnosed with a congenital brain defect?
4. If you don’t drink large quantities of alcohol for an entire day, do the shakes and hallucinations disable you for longer than a few hours?
5. Do you suffer from a clinical inability to distinguish between two things that are different in almost every meaningful way?
6. Are you an infant?
7. Seriously, though. What the hell is your problem?
8. If given a map and a flashlight, can you locate your own anus?
9. If you are able to pinpoint your anus, can you distinguish it from a hole in the ground?
10. Are you only able to choose because your head is jammed firmly into one of your options?
11. Are you so lonely and socially inept that you’ll pretend to be undecided, just so a telephone pollster will talk to you for a few minutes?
12. Are you just messin’ with me?
13. Your problem. What exactly is it?
14. Do you suffer from a crippling inability to defecate, combined with anxiety-induced paralysis that renders you unable to rise from the commode?
15. Would it help if I said you were the bestest, smartest voter ever, and your choice is right no matter who you pick?
16. OMG. WTF?
17. Does the “One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other” segment on Sesame Street leave you confused for days at a time?
18. Are you holding out for Spider-man as a viable third-party candidate?
19. Are you worried that a choice which seems so obvious might be a trap?
20. What is a suitable criminal penalty for a woman who chooses to terminate a rape-induced pregnancy? Should she go to jail, or would a fine be more appropriate?

Hopefully these questions will help you to organize your thoughts about the major party candidates, and break the log jam that seems to have accumulated in your brain. Remember, you can vote for whoever you want on November 4th. Even Spider-man. Unless you haven’t gotten around to registering. In that case you’re worthless, and should consider recycling yourself. Happy voting!

No, this isn’t me making plans to emigrate if the Democrats manage to lose again. If that happens, I’m going to stay here and start a think-tank to recommend sentencing guidelines for when abortion is illegal. (We’ll start with a recommended sentence of a hug and a cup of coffee, and see where that gets us.)

Instead, I’m wondering what to write about once the election is over.* Lately, I’ve turned into an all-rage-all-the-time, anti-Palin blogger. It’s not exactly what I’d planned when I relaunched the site, but venting my political bile has been a relatively easy (and mildly satisfying) way to keep to a regular update schedule.

So I’m wondering. Eventually, the votes will be cast, the lawsuits will be filed and the Supreme Court will pick the president. Once the rioting election is over, should I try to get back to writing about faith, skepticism and rational thinking? Should I keep on swiping at the low-hanging fruit of stupidity in politics? Or should I pitch it all in the bin and start writing Harry Potter/Twilight crossover slashfic? If you have an opinion, or a better idea that I didn’t think of, please feel free to leave it in the comments.

* Please note, this only really applies if Barack Obama is elected. If McCain and Palin win, every update until 2012 will consist of the word “fuck,” repeated 400 times.