Day: October 6, 2014

cable shouter chris matthews imagined his own head being lopped off and began baying for war -- others also imagined that: his, not theirs

radical group of adult-onset diabetes sufferers "takes out" the inventor of honey mustard

we tortured some folks - no big deal - in hell

spring, and the gentrifier next door is back at work on his flagstone patio ergonomic hot tub tiki grill combo whatever #noise

fetus one direction is not about training the unborn to vote for the right (something i learned from my involuntary "trends" sidebar)

if you're going to write about the Whitney's need to show net art it might be best not to mention brad troemel or the jogging

one who truly hated post-internet art would never write about it ["net art acceptable to galleries" is how i'd define it and leave it there]

years ago a friend with an MFA who was also a programmer explained that hacker aesthetics came down to "is it cool" or "is it shit"

"animal rescue person found with a house full of decomposing pet bodies" is essentially the neocon plan for the middle east

For eccentric creative types, twitter made a certain amount of sense six years ago as a place to exchange bon mots and kooky life observations, or even attempt a cyber-mediated equivalent of Gertrude Stein or Samuel Beckett, that is to say, some kind of imperfect, populist literature. Or crit, even. Once professional media types embraced twitter ("hey, this crazy thing the kids invented really helps us talk to our colleagues and filter current events!") it made less sense for bohemians to be on there, rubbing squishy shoulders with all that hard, ratiocinative careerism.

And now, it's pure stupidity to be putting time and energy into it since it's no longer a quaint startup that could sink or swim but an IPO'd juggernaut exploiting users for advertising "eyeballs." Now, those bon mots, kooky thoughts, and unvetted literary efforts pay for one undeserving executive to have a fabulous home on a craggy cliff overlooking San Francisco Bay, and another to tear down a historic house to put in a pricy, state of the art "green home." Not on the backs of our labors, rentier pigs.

And let's not leave out that, if one is the least bit political-minded (or even if you aren't), you are creating a repository of thoughts to be algorithmically combed and sifted for hints of subversion by agents more interested in you than in actual, hard-to-catch criminals. The idea that you are supposed to "check in" to "maintain a presence" feels like parole or home imprisonment.

Coming soon, part two: back to the e-zine underground.