Self-righteousness is a weird kind of boomerang. If you tell someone she's being self-righteous you immediately contract the condition yourself. So then, not only have you lost the credibility it would have taken to convince her she's wrong, but you've also inflated your own ego and made the world a slightly less savory place. God forbid someone else come around to inform the two of you how self-righteous you're now both being, lest this unfortunate third party inherit two doses of disdain and share in your affliction. One can imagine how with each iteration the feeling grows stronger until an unfortunate mind exclaims that "all of the world's petty self-righteousness disgusts me" and explodes in a furious self-engulfing regress.
At the risk of being that guy, I'll say this...
Bloggers: you are self-righteous, pretentious destroyers of life. Your two-bit, twice-a-day "musings" do nothing more than invigorate a class of pseudo-intellectual sycophants who use you to confirm every unoriginal idea they thought they had. Not only do your posts converge to the same approximate this-close-to-being-a-movie-review quality as everyone else's, but the apparent equanimity and even pleasure with which your personal collection of zombies accepts, bookmarks, tags, e-mails, IMs, twitters, and shouts your highly-readable glop of shit to their friends in order to claim ownership of some plebian concept you probably bungled is appalling. Do you realize what you are? You're a layer of abstraction. A black hole. The chisel that molded a soulless mob.
So every witty connection you make in the shower between two sexy ideas does not need four Pageranked paragraphs to further occlude the dying light of constructive thought. Please, abandon your audience and think.