I make stuff because I can. I am creative because I create. I have no delusions of talent, or peculiar worth. I mean, I kind of think creation—itself—is worthwhile.
still, I mostly hate myself most of the time. and, some days, tumblr gets to being the voice inside my head. as a depressive cycle starts to taper off—please, fuck, taper off—nothing can stall the beginning of a manic phase (which is also fucked, but bearable) quite like targeted abuse.
no. I don’t think most of what I make is particularly good.
yes. more thought goes into most of it than what I explain in tumblr posts.
sure. maybe I should make better use of self-deprecating tags about my own patheticness.
but … should I supply complete critical justification with everything I post? I don’t think so. I don’t think most of you guys are stupid enough to need that. I don’t think most of the internet is stupid enough to need that.
I’ve seen it—abuse—happening to other people far more frequently than it happens to me (it’s really not that often). and it’s fucked. I’m sick—particularly—of hipster craft culture—or whatever—and its naive elitism.
‘I’m tons into craft and it’s totally cool. but stuff you make is shit. you can’t do that, or you’re rubbish at it. now I’m going to blog about how I’m tons into craft, and how stuff you make is shit. … because that will fulfil my participation requirement, or whatever.’
I’m more attracted to an idea of craft that is encouraging, than one that’s limiting. I am interested in facilitating people to create, engaging them, showing them that creation is an end, regardless of the objective value of what is created.
I don’t know.
I’m more into surrounding myself with things that I admire than things I don’t. I certainly don’t see the point of lurking blogs I don’t follow to find content I don’t like, so that I can reblog it … simply to be cruel.
probably, I’m weak. I’m absolutely afraid this post will open me up to further shit. whatever. fucked people are fucked and should probably fuck off. if they’re not going to, that’s their problem. this has pretty much fulfilled my participation requirement, or whatever.
HEY HEY HEY GOOD MORNING! The random number generator has selected SNOWFOXED to be the winner!
no words in my mouth. like when people who are intimidatingly talented say nice things about you. exactly like that.
Tubeway Army - are ‘friends’ electric?
dude at Gaso the other night accused Gary Numan of being in the Human League.
other company might let that slide, but a Numan / Philip Oakey unity is way too Relevant To My Interests.
Dudes Not Expecting Ladies to, Like, Know About Bands is hilarious. he was too drunk to let blushing get in the way of gushing, but he did stop short of, ‘I love your knowledge.’
stained glass windows keep the cold outside while the hypocrites hide inside …
‘Economic injustices, including ”the hoarding of goods on a great scale”, may create “a climate of growing hostility and even violence, and ultimately undermine the very foundations of democratic institutions”.’
… not for one race, one creed, one world; but for money. effective. absurd.[Public Image, Ltd. - ‘Religion I’]
what it’s like in my mind
That’s a terrific first sentence. But at the pace he’s publishing—[Jeffrey] Eugenides is 51—there will never be many of his books at which to look…
I’ve never read the Virgin Suicides, but old dude is totally old. I kind of don’t see artist productivity as a huge problem … total strain on the welfare system, or whatever, but I doubt Eugenides is living hand-to-mouth. all the same, these are interesting thoughts (and getting kind-of-topical here).
we roll our eyes at how seldom Time magazine puts writers on its cover … and sense this is evidence of the public’s shrinking appetite for quality literature. perhaps it has got more to do with our novelists’ lagging output, their eroded willingness to be central to the cultural conversation.
‘Dear Important Novelists: Be Less Like Moses and More Like Howard Cosell’ (NY Times: 16 September 2011)