I went on a Facebook and Twitter hiatus because I felt like I was just whipping around too much in an unconscious toilet-flushing motion. It coincided with finally getting internet at home. Something on the internet will remind me of someone I know so I slap it on their wall. A violent scrap of megabanal language emerges out of something I misread at work, and so I tweet the fuck out of it. Then I wait to see if anyone responds to these empty, flaily gestures. At least here on the blog there’s still some obligation to construct something with a little more… integrity? The self-loathing bleeds through more cleanly. Fffft
Ariana Reines’s Tumblr has been moving and inspiring me lately, in all-caps. I’m on my lunch break. Magic Molly immolated her Tumblr, it seems, which is a bummer but I understand and even appreciate the gesture. “In 1970 John Baldessari cremated nearly all the paintings he had created between 1953 and 1966.” I don’t think it’s an outrageous comparison. I look forward to reading Molly’s future work.
Still haven’t read either of the colossal and megafun-looking and much-commented-upon recent Elif Batuman essays: LRB/McGurl/MFAs and NYT Magazine/Kafka. Ben Jones posted a Kathy Grayson–style blog post. I am in a transitional period of my life, self-imposed. There is a weird and bitter ex-marital drama that I’m pretty sure is real unfolding in the comments section of an old blog post. I don’t know either of the parties involved.