Caitlín R. Kiernan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
greygirlbeast) wrote2011-04-06 12:46 pm
greygirlbeast) wrote2011-04-06 12:46 pm
Entry tags:
"Oh, I had a dream I was dreaming."
The sun's shining in a too-blue sky, but it's chilly.
Sirenia Digest #64 went out to subscribers last night, and everyone should have it by now.
Apologies for not including a link for The Book Thief yesterday.
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If there's any more abominable phrase than "online social networking," I'm unaware of it. It reduces the concepts of friendship and acquaintance to a software-enhanced array of dendritic fingers, desperately probing the void for connections, aggressively seeking to supplant (or act as surrogate to) actual, face-to-face contact between human beings.
Or maybe I'm the only one who sees it that way. Or at least, it may be I'm in the minority. To quote Anaïs Nin, "We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.” (Thank you, E. Harrington.) Regardless, there's no place for me on either Facebook or Twitter, and I'm going to write that on a piece of paper in big black letters and tack it to the office wall. Because, apparently, I keep forgetting. I've no interest in "online social networking." I find it as strange and toxic as plastic soda bottles.
I began this journal to record the process of writing, what that process is like for me (which, of course, is not the way it will be for much of anyone else). And, obviously, to promote my work. Then MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter came along, and I allowed myself to be seduced into believing that these sites would be as useful to me as has been LiveJournal, and before that, Blogger. But they're not. I cut MySpace loose a long time ago. As for Twitter, it just seems...harmlessly ephemeral. Too much so to serve any actual purpose I need it to serve. And as for Facebook, I can't take the assholes who think I'm there to be engaged in what they mistake as witty reporté. Not since the Bad Old Days of Usenet have I had to contend with as much rudeness and idiocy on the net as I've had to contend with on Facebook. Yes, granted, the troublemakers are a small fraction of the people who follow me there. But it only takes one or two or three persistently asinine individuals.
Those people are not "my tribe." I had a tribe once, but that was long ago.
No one is entitled to anything, and we all suffer alone, and, if we are honest, we all suffer.
These are bad days and nights, and I'm not well enough to get the writing done that I have to get done, much less banter with people who actually seem to believe there's nobility of purpose in lolspeak.
I need to be writing, and I need to be Outside, and everything else is irrelevant. Or worse.
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The greatest compliment I can ever pay a band or musician is to say, "This is my new suicide album." At the moment, my suicide album is Radiohead's The King of Limbs.
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People say, "You're so unhappy," and they clearly mean it as an insult. Or they think my unhappiness is an affront to what they believe is their happiness.
Funny thing is, I actually hate coffee.
Adrift in the White Noise,
Aunt Beast
Sirenia Digest #64 went out to subscribers last night, and everyone should have it by now.
Apologies for not including a link for The Book Thief yesterday.
---
If there's any more abominable phrase than "online social networking," I'm unaware of it. It reduces the concepts of friendship and acquaintance to a software-enhanced array of dendritic fingers, desperately probing the void for connections, aggressively seeking to supplant (or act as surrogate to) actual, face-to-face contact between human beings.
Or maybe I'm the only one who sees it that way. Or at least, it may be I'm in the minority. To quote Anaïs Nin, "We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.” (Thank you, E. Harrington.) Regardless, there's no place for me on either Facebook or Twitter, and I'm going to write that on a piece of paper in big black letters and tack it to the office wall. Because, apparently, I keep forgetting. I've no interest in "online social networking." I find it as strange and toxic as plastic soda bottles.
I began this journal to record the process of writing, what that process is like for me (which, of course, is not the way it will be for much of anyone else). And, obviously, to promote my work. Then MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter came along, and I allowed myself to be seduced into believing that these sites would be as useful to me as has been LiveJournal, and before that, Blogger. But they're not. I cut MySpace loose a long time ago. As for Twitter, it just seems...harmlessly ephemeral. Too much so to serve any actual purpose I need it to serve. And as for Facebook, I can't take the assholes who think I'm there to be engaged in what they mistake as witty reporté. Not since the Bad Old Days of Usenet have I had to contend with as much rudeness and idiocy on the net as I've had to contend with on Facebook. Yes, granted, the troublemakers are a small fraction of the people who follow me there. But it only takes one or two or three persistently asinine individuals.
Those people are not "my tribe." I had a tribe once, but that was long ago.
No one is entitled to anything, and we all suffer alone, and, if we are honest, we all suffer.
These are bad days and nights, and I'm not well enough to get the writing done that I have to get done, much less banter with people who actually seem to believe there's nobility of purpose in lolspeak.
I need to be writing, and I need to be Outside, and everything else is irrelevant. Or worse.
---
The greatest compliment I can ever pay a band or musician is to say, "This is my new suicide album." At the moment, my suicide album is Radiohead's The King of Limbs.
---
People say, "You're so unhappy," and they clearly mean it as an insult. Or they think my unhappiness is an affront to what they believe is their happiness.
Funny thing is, I actually hate coffee.
Adrift in the White Noise,
Aunt Beast
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Unfortunately my work involves many long hours sitting at a desk waiting for some actual work to do, and often it never comes.
Stupid internet.
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Stupid internet.
It shouldn't be that way, though it is.
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This perfectly ordinary entry is beautifully written.
Thank you. If felt sort of extra psychotic to me.
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Wishing you well so you can get done what you need to get done and go Outside.
Taxes tonight and then I get to read #64. My reward for doing what I have to do.
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The FB follies pissed me right the hell off, too, yesterday.
I' very glad someone else noticed. People have been banned.
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And don't get me started on the gradual decay of the concept of "friend." A friend is a person, not a verb. Someone that I have never met, or who I haven't seen since middle school, is not my friend. I have always considered my friends to be valuable and few (I prefer "acquaintance" for most people I know) and am sickened by the way the word is being used.
In short, it ain't just you.
Re: your feelings...seems to me that they are your feelings. I have no idea why anyone (other than perhaps Spooky) would have any opinion about your feelings, or think that they have a right to. My only thought when I see that you've written that you're feeling poorly is to wish you well.
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And don't get me started on the gradual decay of the concept of "friend." A friend is a person, not a verb. Someone that I have never met, or who I haven't seen since middle school, is not my friend. I have always considered my friends to be valuable and few (I prefer "acquaintance" for most people I know) and am sickened by the way the word is being used.
Two things:
1. Befriending is a perfectly good verb, and never was never any need to pervert the noun friend.
2. "Friend" denotes much greater commitment than is possible via the internet.
I have no idea why anyone (other than perhaps Spooky) would have any opinion about your feelings, or think that they have a right to.
Their assholes who feel entitled to spout off when the mood strikes them.
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Word. It tastes narsty.
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Word. It tastes narsty.
I'm not fond of bitter.
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Arcade Fire, "We Used to Wait"
I just heard this song for the first time on the car radio; I had no idea whose it was. I'm listening to it on repeat now.
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Same old same old. Idiots and assholes.
I just heard this song for the first time on the car radio; I had no idea whose it was. I'm listening to it on repeat now.
The whole album is amazing.
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The age-old question: stupidity or malice . . .
The whole album is amazing.
I'm going to have to get it.
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I believe that anything with the word "networking" attached to it is going to be abhorrent. FB can be interesting, but it is all public and all surface. My heart will always belong to Live Journal.
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People really do take it as a personal affront if someone seems unhappy. I've had people come up out of the blue and demand that I smile.
This is why physically hurting people is always an option.
I believe that anything with the word "networking" attached to it is going to be abhorrent.
Yep.
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And I am sometimes sorely tempted. But I always have to ask myself, "Is it worth jail time?" So far, it hasn't been.
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"I'll smile with your blood in my teeth."
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"I'll smile with your blood in my teeth."
Lines from Fight Club come to mind.
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As to Facebook versus here - it's nice that I can comment here, and I feel honoured (that might sound bombastic, or smarmy - I hope not) that you respond. That doesn't mean I can claim you as a friend, but there are respects that should be observed, that Facebook cannot guarantee. Common courtesy isn't common, sadly.
Waffle aside - Book Thief bought - will begin tomorrow.
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we can't be tyrannized into happiness
You're not an American, are you?
Book Thief bought - will begin tomorrow.
Very good!
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Twitter is an odd spot. I use it primarily to keep up with friends spread across the face of the earth, now, and a few favorite folks who post good news, etc. But you're so right - nothing can replace face-to-face meetings; conventions and occasional visits to those friends keep me alive, I think.
No one is entitled to anything, and we all suffer alone, and, if we are honest, we all suffer.
This struck me. Yes,absolutely.
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It's a filthy pit.
Nicely put.
Apparently, I'm not allowed to dislike Facebook.
I've been told, over the last two weeks, that quitting Facebook is akin to slitting my own throat, and that quitting Twitter brands me as backwards. Neither of these people are anyone who would know such things.
This struck me. Yes,absolutely.
Thank you.
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You're most welcome, Aunt Beast.
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It really did come to me at a fortuitous time.
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Agreed.
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I suffer Facebook but seem to be drifting away from it more and more. It feels like a blessed relief.
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Very, very good line.