My cucumber plant appears to be two plants. A vibrant healthy plant and its diseased evil twin. Half the plant is perky and putting out tiny cukes. Half the plant looks like some kind of prop from Evil Dead.
My sister is somewhere on the Metro, heading into town. The house is clean. I bought a Swiffer thingy and now all my dust has been magically sucked away.
This weekend I am going to try to get in touch with my sleep.
I spend a lot of time on mp3 blogs, downloading stuff by people I've never heard of. It's good, this atomized process of musical selection. It is not much different than "regular" life -- you pick the people you trust, you follow up their suggestions, and you add and discard as required. A lot of bands seem heavily invested in sounding not only like something you've heard before, but which came from slightly before you were born. Instanostalgia. Canny marketing but probably ultimately not good for us, in the sense of opening us up to new and vibrant things. But I see this in design a lot, too, and it doesn't bother me there... The future is just the cannibalized past. I guess the difference is whether you're just repackaging the work of a few generations ago (lazy throwbacking) or if your intergenerational mashup really does flip things upside down -- something so old it's not just new, it's hypernew, supernew, too new to have a good word for (Picasso, Russian futurists).
posted by Reen |link| 0 comments
