Thursday, March 19, 2009

When Do My Tweets Eat My Blog?

Worse than a new format eating my blog bit by bit, it's a different persona in some respects.

Perhaps having a clearly defined identity (secret ID, if you will) is part of it. The 140 character limit and the built in social networking are sticky aspects as well. Hmmm.

Perhaps a guilty pleasure is that I like clearly defined (cartoony even) avatars. Stan Lee is not exactly Stanley Lieber, nor Joey Ramone, Jeffery Hyman. From this place in history, Philip Guston just seems like a joke name and Goldstein seems to be the painter whose forms and contradictions I love. "Guston" is almost a Jewish joke, and the salami on rye quality of his late work's multiple ironies partly turn on that moniker.

The name Kirby, on the other hand, is sharp like a pickle. Maybe the level of assimilation that Jack Kirby was headed for was so modest -- and so transparent -- that it doesn't rankle as in authentic.

Digressions aside... ah, what is there besides digression and regression anyway?
Productivity porn just seems to stem partly from urgent failure, but also from a lack of self acceptance. You get all dressed up in a shiny font and the next thing you know you can't tolerate the squalor that your soul effortlessly exudes.

Look Ma! A shiny To Do list!

That's all for now. Looks like I'm gonna Tweet, Blog, Tumble, Fumble, Grumble.