Essay: Is Blogging like Ginsberg’s “Howl” and Nano Pop?

Screen Shot 2013-11-12 at 10.07.00 PM

 

It seems like good writing, the kind of rewrites, and reflection, and deliberation is in short supply, chiefly in the blogosphere and the slapdash sphere of most internet magazines. This post will reflect that flavor too. It will seem to you to (mostly) mirror what I am critiquing. It may seem instant or undercooked. It is caught in the vortex of the medium. I won’t pretend otherwise.

But, it’s also a start.

Blogs, we recall were so-named as a combination (or perhaps even slang) of the words Website and Log. An online record of passing thoughts captured in 1s and 0s for internet reader consumption. Outdated posts not recycled as fish wrapper but buried deep under a mountain of newer posts, like digital tels. The more content the more recognition, so say the experts. Plus, the all-important the SEO. We can’t forget that.

Or, at the very least blogs were and are a chance to make a mark on the world, or to a few friends with knowledge of your URL. Are they more than this? Are they less? (You can tell me in the comments section. I’m working the system.)

The Heights
And we have too-often elevated them to a place inappropriate. At times confusing there position–determining what is prolific to be  paramount. Though airy they shimmy under their own weight more than they don’t. But with their own magic, they may sting or bite. They may incite vibrant feuds that recall schoolyard antics–digital spilt lips. They may seem like a sand lot variety of King of the Mountain, riffing on zingers and cultural assertions. Though not long after, they reek of the “My dad can beat up your dad!” slurs. And these too gain vigor as referenced links in posts fueling more of the same. (I won’t give you links. You probably already know of some.)

Blog posts, plentiful like the sands on our cultural shore-scape have piled up like dunes but don’t seem to become a bulwark–an art form like a Pulitzer article, or piece of superb literature, or even a good film. There are some rare exceptions and there are some blog postings that somehow change lives.

More often though something vital is traded for the speed and convenience of the quick write-up. I’m stating the obvious, right?

What is it really?
Like instant coffee, the full-bodied flavor textures and aromas of this medium don’t quite work. Chronically under-brewed, the bulk of the speedily-penned internet articles too reveal not just slapped together writing but the slapped-together thinking ungirding it. We are awash in sloppiness. I don’t exclude myself either.

The passion and angst of any given post may drown out this feature and we may be convinced that we have meat to chew on, that is, until we read really good writing.

Maybe a precise poem, birthed not just from suffering or bliss or insight but from the careful gathering of words like seed beads and the arranging of them like art and embellished patterns on a long gown of societal topography.

Maybe a travel article written not for the rushed, tired, and ravenous tourist consumer, but for the person who truly wonders about other cultures and ways of being human in distant regions. A piece of craft that may include the underlying philosophies escaping the mind of a deeply thoughtful and curious person who can and does take the time. Here there is peace of a certain kind that never makes its way properly to Facebook.

Survival
Will the banter or the sarcasm of blogging (and commenting) last through the arc of observable time, at all?

Will it survive weeks, years, decades, after the refinement of reflection and chronological distance makes its way down through it like canyon whitewater? Or will blog posts be captured digital bits of immature polemics, impolitic reverie, and dated fervor of a begone time, like Allen Ginsberg ‘s once criminally obscene 1955 poem Howl reads for us now? A once-debauched and revolutionary vocalization now a kind of caricature of a ruckus time; now a relic of a frenzied, outlying beat–a strange light from a olden day.

Will blogging be frittered like a summering free-love hippie of this time in the Connection and Communication Age, rendered not in the insensate fog of drugs, but in the fever of hot blithering and the lechery of notoriety.

What will be the classic (masterly) posts of blogs from our era, if any? What will be the wheat amongst all the gusting chaff?

Where will there be instead that lasts? Perhaps commentaries well-researched and produced in a arduous string of revisions and heartache and a probing of not just of the topic by of the writer’s own inner world. Questions and ideas that could perhaps give voice to something true, useful, universal and somehow everlasting? The shoulders to stand on.

Archival
Will blog posts be like cultural postcards, the scraps from a newly-formed, digital age whose populace didn’t yet crave more than boilerplate reports and passing thoughts? Tweets like echoes of something that mattered. Facebook the endless ticker cataloguing our lives in bits and bytes.

What, if anything, in this blogosphere and this ephemeral epoch will collese and age like well-kept merlot for future readers in future times? Things truly enjoyable and worth saving? Something, say, for high school English classes to ponder 20 years removed?

The postings might go bleached like Polaroids, capturing in anemic hues a snap swatch; the evanescent blush of the solipsistic maiden: the early 2000s cultural zeitgeist.

Not Warhol’s Pop but something slimmer.

To coin a term: Nano-Pop.

# # #

I’d love your links to blog articles that you feel will not just stand the test of time, but may well be considered paragon of blog posting as a literary art form in our times. If you can find any, please put them in the comments section.

Why not get direct delivery of the next post? Click in the sidebar to be included.

Thanks for reading today.

-Lisa

How-To: Take a Break with WHIMSY

Sometimes when we’ve been working hard or spinning our wheels, rest it what we need most.

But, never forget about WHIMSY!

This week I was working on a new project and I could just tell I needed whimsy.

What is it exactly?

Whimsy is caprice. It’s playful or humorous behavior. It’s the opposite of work and taking yourself too seriously.

If you are burned out, give it a try.

Here are some ways: 

• Do something you did as a kid (a game, an activity, a piece of art, hopscotch, legos, build a card house, color, whatever you want.)

• Whistle. (People don’t whistle much anymore. It’s a crisis of scarce whimsy. Just pick something and do it.)

• Create something for nothing but the fun of it. No one even has to see it. Exuberance and a no-holds-barred attitude is key!

• Sing or hum or play an instrument.

• Whatever made you belly laugh last time? Do that again.

• Tell a friend or family member a funny (or whimsically embarrassing) story and invite one from them.

Just 5-10 minutes of pure whimsy works wonders!

What did I do? I made something whimsical. I call it a “Whimsy Box”.

(People have said that just looking at this makes them feel a creative burst coming on!)

Each Whimsy Box is one-of-a-kind and tells a story.

It’s part art, part whimsical tale, part conversation piece, and part interactive inducer of creative tsunamis. Some Whimsy Boxes have a bona fide riddle about them or mystery to solve. Others play music, make a noise, have moving parts, or light up somehow–like this one!

whimsybox
(Sorry…this one is SOLD. If you’d like one, though, contact me.)

So, that’s how I took my break.

What will you do?

13 Inappropriate Things to Say to the People in Your Life (humor post)

You might think you’re funny, but here are a few tips on what not to say in jest.66

1. To the mail carrier: “Have you had a rabies shot recently? I can’t find my dog.”

2. To the traffic cop: “Gosh, you’re not drunk again, are you?”

3. To the mechanic: “That blue wire there is either the detonator for a car bomb, or part of my son’s science project. The worst part? An employee just walked off the job all disgruntled and my son is making some sort of dirty bomb for a science project.”

4. To the ice cream truck man: “Be careful little hands what you do!”

5. To the neighbor: “I probably should have said this earlier but I saw a family of rats burrowing under your house last week. No worries! Our python loves rats and got into your house with no problem.”

6. To your spouse: “I changed my status to “single” on Facebook two weeks ago, that’s why I was gone this weekend. I thought you were cool with it.”

7. To the Jehovah’s Witness: “I don’t want to talk with you unless can sit down together, in my tub, of course. You like lavender-scented bubble bath?”

8. To the Little League Coach: “I have a concealed weapons permit. You just never know when someone’s gonna bench your kid.”

9. To your tax preparer: “I did all my bookkeeping on post it notes. There’s like ream here, you don’t mind right?”

10. To the barista, “All I have is pennies.”

11. To the library: “Here’s my book. Yes, it’s damp…You’re going to think this is hilarious!”

12. To the garbage man: “What’s worse than your little guys having the runs and super cheap trash bags? Yeah, I don’t know either. I hope you have a light touch.”

13.To your pastor: “I was in your office last month when you were on vacation. I installed “Covenant Eyes” …so, we know all the naughty sites you’ve been visiting.”

 

 If you liked it, share it.

Read “PART II: 13 inappropriate things to say to your family members”…don’t miss the next one, sign up for new content in the sidebar.

On Preparing for the “Other Shoe to Drop”

Screen Shot 2013-06-16 at 10.35.49 PMMaybe it’s happened to you before too…

You look at your child who may sleeping, or being themselves, or doing something they love …and your heart fills with a rush of joy and good pleasure. This is quickly followed by dread.

“Maybe it’ll all be taken away,” you think.

Maybe something terrible is about to happen. Maybe things won’t work out. Fear.

Or perhaps this sort of dread will surface right after a big personal victory or good news.

It’s like that perfect moment of happiness has a gremlin that pops up and spits on it. For many of us, especially if we endured a bit of pain or disappointment, our Joy is followed by foreboding.

This strange death grip on joy is quite common. With a self-protection machete we slash down joy or happiness with contingency plans and preparation for the worst. Upcoming disappointment won’t catch us on our heals, we think.

It’s all about avoiding feeling vulnerable according to Brené Brown who talks about this in her book Daring Greatly. She’s done the research and says that those who’ve done regular preparation to avoid pain still aren’t prepared when disaster strikes. Instead they are devastated, just like the rest of us. But sadly, they have mortgaged away their joyful moments in on-the-spot while bracing for potential disappointment and pain.

So what can inoculate us from from short selling our joy?

It’s simple: In-the-moment gratitude.

Instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop, push aside the tormenting doubt, dread, or mistrust. Sideline the foreboding that steals that moment and latch onto to gratitude. Hold on with both hands. Gratitude sustains joy. It’s like a Defense Against the Dark Arts skill, says Brown. She’s right. It works.

It might go something like this, “Oh, my, we’re all picnicking and enjoying a wonderful time outside. No one’s fighting and everyone’s happy to be here. Yes, it might not last, but my how grateful I am in this very moment, this perfect beautiful moment. I’m going to let it soak into my bones. I’m breathing it in.”

Stay with it as long as you can. There is a guiding light in gratitude… and gremlins, as we know, are afraid of light.

The truth is that joy and sorrow are linked. They do a dance our whole lives, really. But, hope and resilience can win the day. That’s an important bit of useful knowledge to give our children, too. With some intention, we can live in the Joy.

Oh, and when the other shoe drops, use it as a planter.

(photo source)

Thank you for reading today. If you’d pass this article along to someone who needs it or out on the inter webs, I’d be grateful. You can  feature it on your blog too. Just click on the Permissions Policy for details to stay legit.

I hope you’ll sign up for future posts in the sidebar! Have a joyful day sustained by gratitude today, friend.

A Fig Leaf for You & a Fig Leaf for Me

Mustang

Peter Adermark via Compfight

A shinny new sports car!

Fast. Convertible. Hot stuff. As it growled away I thought,

“What a Fig Leaf!”

In about 30 seconds you can see (or hear) the things people do to cover up… to compensate and distract themselves and others from their insecurities. It’s all a Fig Leaf dance done to hide shame.

To see it in ourselves can take a bit more time. Funny how that is!

We are always, it seems, pushing back somehow on the sense that we aren’t enough. (Even by drawing a comparison, which is what I did when I spotted a sport car fig leaf, reveals my cover up attempt, “I’m not as bad as that.” I said in my heart.)

Consciously or unconsciously we send signals to whomever might listen, even if the listener is us:

• I’m smart enough

• I’m talented enough

• I’m wealthy enough

• I’m pious enough

• I’m capable enough

• I’m attractive enough

• I’m good enough

• I’m strong enough

• I’m loved enough

• I’m dedicated enough

• I’m worthy enough

I. am. okay.

Each way a Fig Leaf. Each way a stab at trying to reconnect and find home. We all long for connection and acceptance.

Social creatures as we are, we still want to look like we have it all under control and can go it alone. The sinking feeling that perhaps we cannot sends a jolt of pain that has us picking fig leaves and making coverings for ourselves.

The truth is being vulnerable feels like being naked. We hate it. We feel exposed. We’d rather hide.

If something or someone reveals our mistake or shortcoming, we take it personally–as a reflection of some core flaw. Fig leaves are everywhere.

I don’t have a sport car to show off, so my fig leaf might not be so obvious to others. But it’s there! Oh, and I have much more than one fig leaf too. I too feel like I’m not enough, and plenty of ways and failures come up each day to point it out for me.

The only thing that helps to give me traction and drop a few leaves is admitting it and risking and then relying on my closest relationships to reorient me–including my relationship with God. Those who really love me reinforce that I already am worthy of love and acceptance. God reaches out in Scriptures, through others, and in the Living Word (Jesus the Christ) to drill home the fact that he covers all shame with empathy and love.

Guilt = I did something wrong (admit it, fix it, move on)

Shame = I am something wrong (we stay stuck, we go numb, we disconnect, we over-protect ourselves)

If you want to drop a few pitiful fig leaves, start by taking a risk and reveal why you cover up. You don’t have to do it in public, but apparently you have to do it to be well.

Brené Brown (who you’ve probably realized by now has inspired this post) says that “We are only as sick as our shame.”

I’m reading this, and I recommend it to anyone who has a Fig Leaf or two.

PRAYER FOR THE SHAMEFUL

God, hear my prayer!
I keep scrounging for things to make me feel better.
I remain unfound by your love in times when I deeply need it.
Be my Hope and Deliver
Let your love wash over me and renew me
That I can be born again into a greater Light and Love
And even as a new born baby is vulnerable and so dearly loved
Let me sense that I am your child in the same way
I am strongest and most protected when I realize I am in your arms
Let me sense your acceptance and closeness.
Remind me of who and where you are.

Click for Verse of the day