Coincidentally, I'm sure you care about what I have to say, as well.

Adam and I, unfortunately, live in an Internet world where we know who Jako Blodwick (HA HA HA) is, and I'm not proud of it. Adam had a good post this morning about online commenting in the context of Blodwick, and instead of leaving a comment on his Tumblr, I wanted to add my two cents here.

I'm reading this really good book by Michael Ondaatje called Divisadero, and I was on GoodReads and came across this review written by "Tony," and it may be one of the best things I've seen on the Internet all week. Please, take a gander:





Obviously, the best part is this: "First off, he doesn't use quotes for dialogue and I love every writer who can do that. Since I'm actively submitting my novel in it's current form to agents for representation, I can't even push that envelope since the publishing industry is scared of my theme....so why give them something else to be scared about?"

You're right, Tony. Don't push the envelope too much. The industry - nay, the world - can only take so much of your edge.

I love that Goodreads comments are essentially as bad as the comments on YouTube; it just proves that literacy doesn't necessarily equal intelligence, especially when any asshole can call out a Booker Prize-winning novelist on the Internet and expect some sort of response. Everybody knows that Goodreads is just Facebook with a focus on books: you collect friends and show off how smart you are.

Still HATE.

(Click for link.)

Things I saw in a span of five minutes while walking down Clark Street on St. Patrick's Day (Observed):

1. A man walking straight into another man as he exited a car.

2. At least two people narrowly avoiding collisions with cabs.

3. A man with a two-foot-long red beard smashing beer bottles on the curb.

This is all you've got, seriously? Last year, on Broadway, I saw a man walk out of Avenue Tavern, drop his pants, and hail a cab with his penis. You disappoint me, St. Patrick's Day 2K8.

McSweeney's should look into gay porn; I think I've found them a managing editor.

Jackie published on his blog an amazing missed connection he found a few weeks ago. In that spirit, I'm going to publish one that I found over the summer, which was not so much a missed connection as it was a personals ad, but it was one of my favorite things all year. It pretty much serves as an example of everything I hate. It's been passed around amongst friends through email, and I figure it's time to share it with the rest of my Internet family. Enjoy!

I hereby decree that a Gay Hipster Consortium must no longer exist exclusively within the greasy-hair-enveloped minds of Chicago's queer indie crowd. No more shall we secretly admire each other with the steely glances born out of insecurity and envy. Nay, nay: we must unite our musical prowess, our varied film interests, our nerdy bookishness, our love of the obscurely beautiful, our interests that give us the capital-I-indie status.

(But we, of course, must also be able to chortle at ourselves, calling ourselves "hip" and "indie," as though there were anything tangible in these self-definitions.)

If you are already meeting, under the cover of darkness and smoke and sweat, please welcome me into your malnourished arms. If you are dreaming of such a delicious feast of minds and music and men as I am, reveal yourselves: remove your mask of cool indifference and admit that you just want to be surrounded by living mirrors of yourself, each reflecting a slightly different manifestation of your Indieness.

Bless his little heart.

My sentiments exactly.

...[S]he had relented when Gareth told her that he and Blair had broken up. He said he had spent so much time being antisocial that he found it difficult to accurately judge others' characters; it never seemed clear to him if someone was an asshole when he'd already decided that all people were assholes. Michelle said that was a really excellent attitude for someone joining the Peace Corps. Gareth said that this attitude was called "humanism," which made him a fine candidate for the Peace Corps--he respected humanity; he only found individual people to be assholes.

Adam Langer. The Washington Story.