Friday, November 21, 2003
This is definitely the first post.
The old Hemingway thing--nothing scarier to a writer than the blank page. The writer's battle used to be the killing of trees and tattooing of their dead flesh. Then the tattooing of words and symbols on the reader's eyeballs, hopefully on their memory. A viral kinda thing.
Now along comes the web. Infinitely blank, seemingly weightless. Everyone in the world has a blog, and yet there is no net increase in anything worthwhile. Most of it is commentary, or meta-commentary (or this meta-meta-commentary) on minutiae, on style (but not even style, more like fashion--fleeting style trying to discover itself).
Well, surrender to it. Postmodernity tells us to revel in the absurdity, the meaninglessness, the weightlessness. Let go.
Schön means beautiful in German. It probably means shiny plastic stirring spoon in Ikean.
The old Hemingway thing--nothing scarier to a writer than the blank page. The writer's battle used to be the killing of trees and tattooing of their dead flesh. Then the tattooing of words and symbols on the reader's eyeballs, hopefully on their memory. A viral kinda thing.
Now along comes the web. Infinitely blank, seemingly weightless. Everyone in the world has a blog, and yet there is no net increase in anything worthwhile. Most of it is commentary, or meta-commentary (or this meta-meta-commentary) on minutiae, on style (but not even style, more like fashion--fleeting style trying to discover itself).
Well, surrender to it. Postmodernity tells us to revel in the absurdity, the meaninglessness, the weightlessness. Let go.
Schön means beautiful in German. It probably means shiny plastic stirring spoon in Ikean.
