Forthcoming: Social Media is Sincerely Awesome (Sorry, Aldous Huxley)

Good afternoon, friends.

Easy there, Chris.

I’m hoping to record and post two new video blogs later today or tomorrow.  One is going to be about social media in the hands of people watching the revolutions in Tunisia and Egypt from afar. I’ve talked about it already here, but I what I think I’ll end up saying in the new post was inspired by a question from my good friend and frequent reader/commenter here at TDC, Chad Hogg. Chad is a supremely super-intelligent and thoughtful man.  You should read his blog.  By the way, Chad, I’m listening to a track from Tragic Kingdom as I type this.  I thought you should know.

In related links below, Andrew Sullivan makes fun of Malcolm Gladwell for the later’s agnosticism on the impact social media has had on the Tunisian and Egyptian movements.  Confession:  I love Andrew Sullivan and am a frequent reader of his Daily Dish, but I haven’t read the linked piece yet.

R.E.M.
The history of social media contained in an outmoded archival paradigm. Wait, what? Yes.

That said, you probably know that I’ve been very interested in this whole topic and have been following it across various forms of media. Something immediately apparent to me is my almost shocking desire to refer to news sites as “Old Media” in this discussion.  I really was just about to say that I’ve been following the story across New and Old Media online, but New Media is, by definition, online.  We’re realizing more and more, though, that online media is not necessarily New Media.  In many cases, New Media has become old media, and the unquestionably new New Media is social.  Twitter and Facebook are to CNN.com what CNN.com is to newspapers.  I think that’s becoming clear.   But the new New Media isn’t just new.  It is, in very real senses, a media outside of time.  It almost doesn’t make sense to call it New or to even call it real time.  It is the media of witness, and that’s what I’m going to talk about.

If you’re following at home, I’m now listening to the Ronettes.

Last night, I came across this very well-done cartoon that outlines a popular essay about which plausible dystopian anxiety (George Orwell’s or Aldous Huxley’s) is more likely in our present and emerging future.  It’s long, so let me say up front that I think both propositions need to be guarded against (that might be the most obvious thing I’ve said, ever), but that I obviously can’t go all the way with the “Huxley is right” argument when it comes to things like social media.  (And neither should you.  Pesky normative statement alert.)

Needless to say, I believe in curating beauty and that loving things worth loving (and sharing that love) will actually make us better. Loving crap is something different.  Loving pop culture?  Like anything, that’s a mixed bag.  I love Pet Sounds because its beautiful.  I love Elvis because he’s singular.  I love “Sweet Child O’Mine” because it’s awesome and life-affirming.  I think the balance lies precisely there…do the things we love encourage us to live bigger, more fulfilling, more creative lives, or do they diminish the expectations we have for ourselves by their sheer size and repetition?  Friends, isn’t that finally up to us?

The other video will about about The New Sincerity. That is to say,  I think I’m going to encourage everyone to keep on being awesome.

How To Make A Hollow Book in Which to Hide Your Stuff

If you went to a high school, you knew a kid who tried to do this. Trust me on that. (No, it wasn’t me.) Now that you’re all growed-up like Wendy Darling, what kinds of things would you use something like this for? Oh, and kids, if you’re reading: don’t bring crap you’re not supposed to to school. Unless it’s something funny. Also, don’t do drugs.

found here via StumbleUpon.

My favorite part of this whole project has to be the inclusion of our old friend, the 3.5 inch floppy disk.  I also appreciated “make sure this is your book” and “make sure you use a hardcover book.”  Now, honestly, I actually cringe at the very thought of cutting or otherwise mangling a book no matter what the awesome final product.  When I find old books at garage sales, I bring them home and nurse them back to health.  Maybe you have a damaged, unusable, unsalvageable edition of something that you can re-purpose for these kinds of projects. If so, then, like Mitch Hedberg used to say, I’m for ’em.

Speaking of Mitch Hedberg, I’m pretty sure he invented Twitter.  Is a post on that forthcoming?  I think you know the answer to that, friend.

Speaking of StumbleUpon, if you use it, let me know so we can connect and share recommendations, reviews, and likes.  If you don’t know what it is, let me just say that it has precious little to do with Culture Club.  Misheard title lyrics there are “I’ll Tumble 4 Ya.”  You’d think these guys would be all over that.

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A Paean For the Fourteenth of February, A.D. 2011.

Today our hearts are full of spring.  Hopes and expectations advance from the cold winter of our more withdrawn selves and everything is possible, nay, everything is new!  The vanquished and the victors each with passions barely bridled step forth to give and to receive; Joy, oh Joy, that wing-ed thing! And wing-ed, with its own wings lending; might we see eternal forms?  Today, the ancient tandems torn asunder by the cycling of Demeter reunite in temperate climes.  Persephone returns to us, and Proserpina, Roman twin:

Oh, that's right. It's today.

 

Poetry Being the Thing

The Path

The narrow path crawling,
Shivering underneath the feet,
At the end of which
The Tree of Life has grown, shimmering…

What a big heart it has
This road to Eternity
This path for people, plants and beasts alike,
This path of winged birds…Breathe, o breeze,
Little stutterer,
Entwining and swirling
The love of life
And the harvest of the heart,
From the sea waves,
From the cloud pleats,
From the molten blaze
Of crimson flowers,
Let her light a golden light under my bosom,
And you, blow into the flame, o gentle wind,
So that my hope
Swells eternally
Over my chest…

(Komitas)

A Poem

Tell me, if I caught you one day
and kissed the sole of your foot,
wouldn’t you limp a little then,
afraid to crush my kiss?…

(Nichita Stãnescu)

I Am

I am your love,
I am the heat of your love,
Yet lonely…

I am your woman,
You, you are my soul
That I depend on…

Your voice sounded as sudden thunder of love
My soul breathed as an elating lightning of spring…

I breathed your breath deep down my chest
And by your fire I became the poet of the flames…

(Komitas)

 

…the most memorable concern of mankind
is the guts it takes to
face the sunlight again.

(Bukowski)

Language was invented for one reason, boys – to woo women – and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. It also won’t do in your essays.

(John Keating, Dead Poet’s Society)

Happy Valentine’s Day, dear readers.  And to my wife.