Thursday, February 17, 2011
Secondhand Rants will return on Tuesday, February 22.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Back in aught-nine, before the possibility of a Facebook-induced revolution was even a gleam in someone’s eye, I held forth on the perceived benefits–or lack thereof, more accurately–of social media. You engage and engage with little in the way of real-world return, I claimed, before slamming my fist on my desk and logging out of Blogger in a huff. That was then. If you had asked me to revisit the topic a year later, I would’ve conceded somewhat and softened my objections, citing coupons on Twitter as my main piece of evidence.
But something happened recently, way down in Egypt land, and I’ve had to reevaluate my stance again. Maybe there’s something to this phenomenon after all, you know? Here’s my train of thought. At the end of the day, social media is simply another way for people to talk. Now, what people discuss, well, there’s the rub. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say we generally tweet about stuff that’s, oh, slightly less important than telling Pharaoh to let my people go.
There was a greater cause, a far larger idea percolating in the collective Egyptian consciousness, and Facebook was simply the valve. They hitched a wagon–a 140-character a pop, normally annoying wagon–to a star. It makes me wonder whether being able to use these very same channels to prattle on about how the local Starbucks is now serving Trenta Chocaccinos, OMG LOL OMG, is a kind of milestone, a privilege. It’s, like, hey! This is what might happen if you take your newly minted freedom and run-rate it 10, 15 years. You can look forward to this.
Originally I wanted to discuss LinkedIn, but we clearly ended up in a different place. Now it’s time for bed, because I’ve got an 8 AM meeting tomorrow. It will likely call for opinions, and being able to vocalize them will require consciousness, at the very least. Sleep has been elusive recently. I have this recurring dream wherein I’m soaring through a darkening sky, sometimes in a plane, sometimes without, and there is a massive swirl of black clouds and electricity on the horizon. Diagnosis? Unsure, but I suspect a measure of peace, rather than Ambien, is needed.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
There are post-it pads situated strategically throughout my place, each one paired with a pen, and I have my old man to thank for them. These were marketing tchotchkes for a prescription drug, a whole box of which he dropped off before he left the country. That would be a box of tchotchkes, by the way, not drugs. I have another guy for that. The reason I’ve planted post-its around the house is simple. They offer a way to offload stray ideas, curate my thoughts, and continue my day with brain unburdened. Sometimes I’ll note a grocery item I need, but more often than not, it’s a word or two that relates to an e-mail–or blog post!–I need to produce.
I’ve jotted down a single word in the past few days: “writing,” circled once for emphasis. We’re going deep, I know, by writing about writing using writing implements–some real Russian doll shit happening here, with layers upon layers. I’ve actually been mulling over this topic for about a year now, ever since I’ve had to reach for my copywriting hat with increasing regularity. There was a time when I was convinced professional wordsmithing was for me, but you know what? I was wrong.
What I dislike is the act of pulling a series of words out of thin air. The creative process is cumbersome, painful, a constant carving and re-carving of ether. Chances are, too, that if you’re being paid to write something, the subject matter itself isn’t something you’d pursue on your own accord. It’s just a Venn diagram that seldom touches. But what I do like is the utility of writing. Take a simple e-mail, for instance. It’s fascinating how the slightest change in word choice, order, or even tense can yoke your missive to an entirely different purpose. These are rich nuances you’re able to tweak to your heart’s content. Let’s say you’re coming off like a douche in whatever e-mail you’re crafting. Just close with “Thanks!” All set.