I can’t say I’ll miss you, but I will remember you well.

In a year where blogging became an afterthought to work and academia, and in which, to my own horror and disbelief, You Tube became my friend, these are what I consider the best of the lot. Posts that, if read in concert, give you an pretty good idea of me.

An Opinion:
Oh, Oh, Oh public radio

A Song, satirical dialog, and a wicked good visual aid, make a statement:
The Plague

A poem:
Perspective

A day in the life:
Connotations

A second opinion — always get one:
Hi Risk Lo Risk it doesn’t matter

Friends:
Harbor People

All about you:
You Had Me At “Publish” and “Ping”

Love and joy come to you,
And to you your wassail, too,

I hope 2011 is your best year yet.

Cooper

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Ellen, a staunch Bie­be­rite, knows there is a great demo­graphic for this — girls age 9 to 12, grand­mothers, and pedophi­les —  and is willing to take advan­tage of it. I’m sure it’s luc­ra­tive, and I can’t begrudge Ellen wan­ting to leve­rage it, con­si­de­ring she has a gor­geous, and I ima­gine high main­te­nance, spouse to support. Nevertheless, I can’t prevent it from aggravating me some. Not a lot, but a little vex here and there.

What 12 year old wri­tes about a bro­ken heart like this anyway?

I bet if someone loo­ked hard enough they could find someone on You Tube — face it, it’s like the cof­fee hou­ses of old — who is at least the age of con­sent. Someone who can board a plane without a permission slip, lives on their own, pays their own bills, filmed their own “concert”, put it online, and sings and writes spectacularly. A more seasoned performer, of say 19 or 30, who could use the job.

Philosophically I know it doesn’t matter. I have to say it anyway. There are no heroes, only capitalists (a paraphrase derived from a quote about the Beatles — by Cambridge University historian, David Fowler), so lets not get all weepy and proud of those who discover children who can sing and dance and make money. Let’s not pretend these people are saviors. They are merely good business people. It’s not horrible, merely boring as hell, and we can do better.

I feel the the creative forces in the world have gone on a very long vacation.

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Dear Serena,
Next time, do like the much beloved Roger Federa, remain calm, don’t point your racket, and say quietly, in a non-threatening way “blah blah blah” “Fuck You” blah, blah, blah,”You have any rules? Don’t tell me to be quiet, ok? When I want to talk I’ll talk, all right…I don’t give a shit what he said, ok?”

I know you’re Black, strong, and and female, so when you yell, all hell will break lose. People will call you all sorts of names they’d never call a man, a white man, a black man, or a white women. People will call you threatening. I wasn’t really happy you lost it, but really. I wanted to shove the ball down that lines woman’s throat too.

One more thing.

Who cares of Kayne West hurt some little singers feelings. Who cares if he has a drinking problem, is just Kayne West, or is hopelessly addicted to spurting out politically incorrect truths at public events.

You’ve got to wonder at the importunate postings on Kayne and Serena. In a world full of mind blowing coorporate corruption, rampant military spending, starving children, and an increasing lunatic fringe,
you have to wonder.

Or Not.

Peace.

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