Slogger is a fantastic script created by Brett Terpstra. With a bit of manual setup, Slogger can run on your Mac and, on a daily basis, pull entries from various Internet sources -- such as Twitter and RSS -- and put them into Day One automatically. It is a way to fill Day One with social updates for stuff that you write elsewhere. Brett is awesome, he's working on new stuff for Slogger, and you should definitely check it out (and consider a donation) if you're interested in its functionality.
I, however, have turned Slogger off a couple of weeks ago and removed the entries it created. This happened soon after the release of Day One with tags and search, which made me realize "automated logging" is not for me. Slogger was a placebo, not a medicine to let me write more. Somewhat intrigued by its scriptability and automation, I fell short of my own promise:
In twenty years, I’m not sure I’ll be able to remember the songs I like today, or the faces of people that I care about now. I don’t even know if I’ll be around in twenty years. But I do know that I want to do everything I can to make sure I can get there with my own memories. We are what we know. And I want to remember.
It took a while for me to realize I wasn't fixing the right problem. Instead of making an effort to document memories I care about, I was passively watching another Internet pipe feeding a digital archive of my life with tweets, liked items, starred posts, and everything in between. Brett is awesome, but Slogger is not for me. At least not with the current version of Day One, because there's no way to meaningfully separate "social entries" from "actually-written-by-me entries". My wish is for Slogger to eventually mature into a standalone app for "social archiving", separate from Day One.
I want my thoughts -- not my stupid Twitter jokes -- to be read by someone who, for some reason, will care about the life I had. There are several aspects of my digital life that I like to improve, but I won't automate my memories.
Day One is a personal experience, and as such, I want it to be mine.