Will this blog become a commonplace book about a commonplace book?

William Gass wrote the introduction to this edition. (You can access a pdf of Gass's introduction here.) He makes several interesting points. First, that Burton, who lived between the years 1577 and 1640, was very much what one might call "pre-modern." That is, Burton had cast off belief in many of the certainties that had sustained the medieval world but had not yet imagined casting many others off. First and foremost, he never questioned his belief in Christianity.

Nor is Burton's intellectual outlook empirical. Rather, he still occupies a world in which Truth is embodied in texts, Authorities. Thus, the book constitutes to an enormous degree a compendium of earlier writings. But Burton's style isn't entirely medieval; these "'authorities' now include not only the textual authorities of Christianity but also all the classical authors [he] had the opportunity to cite."

This dependence on and endless reference to other authorities, however, may make Burton more contemporary than one might at first imagine. Although Gass does not say so explicitly (perhaps it was too early when he wrote the introduction in 2001 to be as obvious as it is now), The Anatomy of Melancholy resembles a post-modern, intertextual, web-based compendium. The explication of other texts

show[s] generosity in the "loan" of the resources of your library and by your "readiness to spread the word," just as you also took good care to gather books and manuscripts, diligently copying passages from volumes [much as I, Wyatt, am here] from the volumes which had to pass through, rather than remain in, your hands. Guided by a genius, the pages of a commonplace book could be transformed into an original and continuously argued text . . . . 

It is not uncommon at all by now to describe blogs as contemporary commonplace books.

So will this blog become a commonplace book about a commonplace book?