We are posting.
We are posting to Tumblr. Which is owned by Yahoo!. Which also owns Flickr. And is bringing back Community. And severing its links to other services - Facebook and Google in particular, which means Instagram. The open web is dissipating. So I suppose this is my pied-à-terre in the Yahoo! garden, not to mention something of a contemporary substitute for a LiveJournal, though more explicitly for sharing than for lightly-open catharsis.
I find it tricky to get full utility out of Tumblr. Partly because it’s blocked at work, so I can’t harness its networking features to share and/or aggregate interesting stuff. Partly because tumbling stuff from the iPhone app is awkward. Gack, as they sometimes say. Of course, I have a similar thing on Blogger, but it has dreadful iPhone support, with auto-jumps and text-resizing and general chaos.
No perfect scenario.
Sarah Weinman has a tumblr on here; this is great! And Jamie writes over on MGK sometimes. Memories.
March of progress
How many legions does Jane Jacobs have?
beaten to the punch
Well, so much for venting about the torrent of reckless hate constantly roaring online; looks like it boiled over already and now everyone’s talking about it.
Watching “it might get loud”, the documentary about guitars, and am growing increasingly inspired. First about Jack White and how he felt when he first heard Son House at 18. Then about The Edge and how he felt when he read about the bombing and shooting that set him on the path to writing “Sunday Bloody Sunday” — you just have to get it out, as Jack White said, if something made you angry, if something made you upset or jealous. Tapping into that rage constructively is what I’m thinking about right now.
Yes, it’s be nice to be able to play it on a guitar and belt it out. But I’ll just put it up here or whatever.
Like, I’m going to write a song about how mad I am whenever I read more insane ideological right-wing lies or erosive policy, like about Boehner’s or Ford’s plans for their tenure as custodians of their respective legislative constituencies. Such ugly contempt.
Alone, Superman T-Shirt
I was thinking about the movie version of Godspell, with Victor Garber walking around an empty NYC as a Superman T-Shirt-wearing Jesus. (In Toronto, Victor Garber is ubiquitous; I walked past an ad for a new ensem-com just as I started writing this; lo and behold.)
But in Toronto, Victor Garber is sometimes the only familiar face. Thinking about other “empty city” images, things like I am Legend or Last Night, sets a thought or two in motion about Toronto, and why it’s never quite so strange to see it completely desolate on film, void of life.
Neighbourhoods exist in the city, yeah. You can make a show like King of Kensington or Degrassi or a movie like Scott Pilgrim and it makes sense that people know one another, have a neighbourhood crowd or community.
But think about any other show, image, notion of Toronto as a whole. Who’s interacting with one another as a matter of course? What’s the “feeling” of being there? Do people know each other, really, or are they just incidental to the conduct of business?
My weird question is that given how jarring it was to watch Superjesus walk around New York with nobody else in evidence, would it feel the same in Toronto? Given that the T.Dot is just a big movie set with scattered service jobs available on contract basis, would it feel at all weird to see a movie that depicted the whole city as an empty grid of streets and towers?
I take the same route down to work almost every day. I don’t think I recognize a single soul. And I’m writing this on an iPhone on the subway, so it’s not like I’m improving the situation.
If there’s a side in all this protest that wants nobody to trust anyone else, they’re winning. I don’t trust protestors that are sheltering bunches of “smashies” who ran around in balaclavas, smashing windows near where I work. I don’t trust cops who bludgeon their way into crowds and arrest journalists. I don’t trust self-righteous pontificating bloggers (so don’t trust me!) who aren’t embedded, pretend any of either “side” is justified. I don’t trust sweaty Dmitri Soudas when is says “it was fine in Pittsburgh, Seattle, London” (hint: those were far worse).
I don’t trust the self-righteous television broadcasters talking about how “this isn’t REALLY Canada”. I think we need to accept that everywhere is more or less everywhere else, at this point. Adam Carolla, usually not a font of geopolitical insight (actually who am I kidding, he’s very insightful even if often willfully ignorant, particularly about geopolitics) said something that echoed McLuhan but was way more germane: “the second some guy turned on a cellphone or logged onto the Internet, it stopped being about countries and borders and just became one big country.”
This stuff is all connected. If Canada has to get a bit more like Africa or India in order for us to understand how much Africa, India are suffering to make us so comfortable here in Canada, and that gets us to DO something about it, that’s sort of a step in the right direction. My problem is that we have here a failure to communicate. Window-smashers are inarticulate assholes without a political wing. And cops have no patience for this — they’re paid to be bouncers here.
So look at what we’ve got here today: nobody understanding or trusting each other, when we should be shocking people into awareness.