I don’t miss Twitter. I quit on the day whatshisbutt took over. I now have one less site to update when I publish a song, or a podcats episode, or mewsletter. I find I like less, more, these days. The other day someone sent me an invite to another webby socially networky thing, and the only emotion I felt was anxiety. Based on that, I didn’t click through to learn more about how this was the better revolutionary democratizing responsible fun platform of the future because I don’t believe it and I don’t care. Bah. I’ve gone full get off my lawn about this. There’s no sense in denying it. Humbug and bosh.
Now then, I feel better. TODAY The Cow Song went live in boodles of streaming noodles, AND is famous in a subway car somewhere, apparently.
Nay, I lie, it’s a pic from Distrokiddy’s nifty raft of promotional widgetys, of which I am a user. User, isn’t that a word for our times? Are you a user? I am a power-user. I was an early adapter (adopter?). I don my pondering cap and cop: I AM DISENAMORED OF TEH INTERWHUTS!!
Language, spelling, these things are gone. In the Before Time there were Copy Editors – I, myself, am still at times, a copy editor! Professionally or with friends, I enjoy it. And yet I also enjoy inventing words or spellings. The meaning can be enhanced or altered, satirized or twizzled, anyporp is mossible. Take for example, DISENAMORED. I mean it’s plain, what it means.
Liberties we take. Do dictionaries stand a chance, anymore? Official words in the Oxford Officialdom? How can they keep up now? How long did it take for Tweet to become a noun, a verb, and nothing to do with birds, enabling the end of civility, and Dystopian Crushing Darkness And Despair (DCDAD)? We study, we wonder. I DON’T MISS IT! I didn’t like it. The fact that it’s imploding while “Meta” also creaks and lurches precariously is interesting. The era is shifting. What next, I wonder.
I double-space my sentence breaks and fall easily in love with English professors. I LOVE language and the little rules of it, the ever-changingness of it, I’m fascinated that recording artists exist with names you can’t read phonetically. I form whole sentences with emojies sometimes. It’s like hieroglyphics – getting back to the foundations of written language. Here’s a picture of a bird. Here’s a smiley. Here’s a heart. I understand.
CaturRanterSunday, it must be. I don’t want any new user accounts in anything. I’m going to try and trim it back further, so I have less to deal with. My fascination with social networks has waned, and FB is the only one I’m still on, for now. Oh and I grudgingly try to use Instagram but I find their interface utterly incomprehensible. They want you to do it on their app, of course. Everyone wants you to have an app, for their things. I prefer my laptop, I prefer not having apps, I would prefer standardization of navigation methods and metaphors, and, I would like a pony. Double-space.. thank you,
Good afternoon
