A blog about Facebook and social media. Comedy, drama, laughs, freak outs. Bring your friends.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Monday, December 17, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Picasso
An old friend met Picasso. He told her, if you run out of red, use blue.
I wish I could have visited his studio.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Saturday, December 8, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
End of the Road
The hard thing about Facebook is that no one is really listening anymore. They are just posting and try to give their personal agendas some air time. So when I post something important (or what I consider to be) it is kind of ignored. I have plenty of friends and I "like" and "comment" on their stuff all the time, but they don't seem to be able to reciprocate.
This may be the long term downfall of the system. Kind of sad. Maybe with important people or groups, you can specialize, but in general, it is a free fall for egos. What can be done besides turn up the volume?
This may be the long term downfall of the system. Kind of sad. Maybe with important people or groups, you can specialize, but in general, it is a free fall for egos. What can be done besides turn up the volume?
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Friday, November 9, 2012
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
It's strange how music stays with you over the years. You get a bit of song stuck in your head and it plays out like a repeat loop in the background of the mind. A riff, a series of notes. Burned into your synapses. Dreamed or otherwise. Then one day you find the song again! You make the connection between that distant FM song in the past and your current moment. You hear it again and it comes alive and it means everything. And this somehow is proof of life and a spark that lit it.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
nyc
it feels like ghostbusters and the scifi channel have taken over central park
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
Doors opening and closing... In Spanish
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Slow morning
Day underway, a chance to rest. Wait and listen. The things I wanted to say are not as urgent. I cannot bring them to my lips. I've uttered enough impatient words and I can't muster another. Rest is around the corner. Close as a nap on the couch and a game on TV. Or a walk by the beach. Not to decide too quickly is the issue. And in deciding, to let the being choose freely where the spirit will go.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
11th gate
from Stonehenge - Maccu Picchu (I think)
♥ Here's the link to all the information on the momentous, final 11:11 Activation of Eleventh Gate. ♥
http://www.nvisible.com/1111/ 11/11Gate.html
♥ Here's the link to all the information on the momentous, final 11:11 Activation of Eleventh Gate. ♥
http://www.nvisible.com/1111/
Friday, September 14, 2012
For the real estate mogul in you.
And how about investing in some new movies! The stories of tomorrow are waiting to unfold.
And how about investing in some new movies! The stories of tomorrow are waiting to unfold.
Nationalism to be proud of...
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Little voice inside my head said, Don't look back
Monday, September 10, 2012
The future
It's hard to explain how you feel connected to all these people. The connection just gets more interesting with live reception. Instantaneity is promised by the internet, and similar systems, and delivered. Perhaps, as the man said, there is just what goes in by the nodes, but I think there is more. I don't want to ruin it by claiming that it can be haunted or that everything is "connected," yet there we are. Privy to some version of people you know, think you know, want to know, but they were never so available as now. So we are left wondering if we cross the line by expressing certain sentiments. There to be expressed, but the game is bigger than us now. You see them, some part of them, if only a fabrication; a bond and a secret. You think of something, or hear a song, and then you see they have sent you a message. You wonder if the system knows, or some part of you knows. Just knows. That the signal was there. Waiting for you, or you waiting for it. The shared hemisphere of thoughts, of momentary significance, and hallucinatory fusion. So then, nothing hidden, everything shared, but only in shadow. The real you pulses somewhere else. Calls to you, beckoning. Also freeing you, to sign off and know that we too lived. To a flower in the distance.
Monday
Hard to ease into the week, it's a tough one for most I know. People sneak into facebook, still half asleep, nothing pressing to say (usually), and nothing to declare.
Me too I guess. Easing into it. Facing down fall. What happens to the dreams of spring?
From Chapo always reliable. A few are good, some make no sense at all.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/09/things-id-like-my-sons-to-know_n_1867992.html?utm_hp_ref=tw
Me too I guess. Easing into it. Facing down fall. What happens to the dreams of spring?
From Chapo always reliable. A few are good, some make no sense at all.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/09/things-id-like-my-sons-to-know_n_1867992.html?utm_hp_ref=tw
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Saturday, September 8, 2012
status update
Life is great. The thing I can't figure out is lately how things got so lame. I mean, it's all terrific, but it's also kinda dumb.
Someone posted a picture of what parents do at their kids' soccer games. They all have their phones out and they are taking photos of their child on the field. A normal impulse, but there they are (written in ink), all holding a piece of plastic, glass, and fingerprints that separates you from actually being in the moment. It's a staged moment, granted, but it's more real and repeating than not. The picture within the picture makes it sweet, in a general, family way, but there is something empty about the whole transaction.*
It's sort of like when the Olympians in the opening ceremonies all walk along with their phones and cameras running, shooting back at us.**
So PoMo! I get it, you are on this world arena and dressed to the 9s for your country, and you're like, Man, I gotta show this to the people back home...
But you forget you are there to be looked at. You are the movie star of the moment, of life's camera, not just the BBC feed. We need to see you, how you walk, how you carry it, the way you shine on the path. A nod to our South American friends. Don't block your face trying to be the fucking love child of Robert Flaherty and Mr. Brainwash.
Seriously, let's not all try and grab it at all once. Let some of it pass, lest you look like a sucker in all your memories.
What I'm saying is I'm trying to show up. Yes, I too am mostly failing, I'm happy snapping away, trying to grab it all and repost it, only I know there is another way of being that isn't so rushed, forced, harried. The bath of eternity all around, and we sit staring into some useless apparatus that we will swap out next year, while the times and people pass without our appraisal.
Btw the digital revolution is horseshit. Now everyone can shoot grabass garbage. Literally.
I want to go back to the magic box, where you had to know what an f-stop was to make anything happen. I say this for our souls, for the audience (lost in the modern era), and posterity.
Show us how to do facebook on 35mm film and you will save the world.
Enjoy the soft rain.
** Btw This was my fav image from the last go. Made me happy for days to see little Janis Pumpkin from Slidell made it into the parade (note: no phone in her hand).
Someone posted a picture of what parents do at their kids' soccer games. They all have their phones out and they are taking photos of their child on the field. A normal impulse, but there they are (written in ink), all holding a piece of plastic, glass, and fingerprints that separates you from actually being in the moment. It's a staged moment, granted, but it's more real and repeating than not. The picture within the picture makes it sweet, in a general, family way, but there is something empty about the whole transaction.*
It's sort of like when the Olympians in the opening ceremonies all walk along with their phones and cameras running, shooting back at us.**
So PoMo! I get it, you are on this world arena and dressed to the 9s for your country, and you're like, Man, I gotta show this to the people back home...
But you forget you are there to be looked at. You are the movie star of the moment, of life's camera, not just the BBC feed. We need to see you, how you walk, how you carry it, the way you shine on the path. A nod to our South American friends. Don't block your face trying to be the fucking love child of Robert Flaherty and Mr. Brainwash.
Seriously, let's not all try and grab it at all once. Let some of it pass, lest you look like a sucker in all your memories.
What I'm saying is I'm trying to show up. Yes, I too am mostly failing, I'm happy snapping away, trying to grab it all and repost it, only I know there is another way of being that isn't so rushed, forced, harried. The bath of eternity all around, and we sit staring into some useless apparatus that we will swap out next year, while the times and people pass without our appraisal.
Btw the digital revolution is horseshit. Now everyone can shoot grabass garbage. Literally.
I want to go back to the magic box, where you had to know what an f-stop was to make anything happen. I say this for our souls, for the audience (lost in the modern era), and posterity.
Show us how to do facebook on 35mm film and you will save the world.
Enjoy the soft rain.
* And I don't mean just because soccer sucks. It does. No, I'm kidding. Sort of. Now I really like World Cup for some reason, and I played when I was a kid, and enjoyed some bon homie (sp?) and all that playing then. Compared to American football, I personally don't think it's as interesting. The field is too big and I could weed in the corner and no one would notice.
(On a side note I enjoy Australian football when I catch it. Particularly when someone scores and the ref does that cool move and brings his arms down and points out his fingers. Badasssss...)
** Btw This was my fav image from the last go. Made me happy for days to see little Janis Pumpkin from Slidell made it into the parade (note: no phone in her hand).
Friday, September 7, 2012
letting go
from the dove she found a jacket she liked
"... I need one of these outfits for fall."
http://englishrussia.com/2012/06/08/dischargees-all-dressed-up/
Gas and then some
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