I’ve never heard of Charley Bowers, but this surreal animation from 1930 proves that I should have.
(via Coilhouse)
The backlash is here. Compared to many I’m a late joiner of Twitter, so I could easily be lumped into the unwashed mass of people that pushed Twitter from “cool” to the “oh shit my grandma is on here” category. I don’t think it’s going anywhere, and I imagine that in a few years we’ll reminisce about the olden days of Twitter the way we do about once really cool things like email or newsgroups. Or chat for that matter.*
Anyway, I’ll probably talk shit about Twitter for awhile, mostly because everyone else is. It’s only appropriate given that bandwagon hopping turned it uncool in the first place. After that it’ll be integrated into everything and I won’t even think about it. What really worries me is what happens when all of my online and offline identities somehow merge into one.** Maybe that’s the next killer app, something to manage all of our ridiculous online personae.
* There was a period of time during which I printed and saved all of my chats. This might make an interesting ongoing feature, Banal Chats from my Past.
** People talk about the Singularity, maybe that’s what will happen. Identity boundaries cease to exist. I implode under the gravity of my cognitive dissonance.
There I was, in my kitchen, in a dream, with a cabbage in my hands. It was a long slender cabbage and it fell in half as I moved it through the air, the sides still attached by several cabbage strands. An estranged friend was there, nervous and making small talk with someone else. The outer strata of the cabbage were slightly brown and soft, I questioned the utility of the vegetable. My friend was now thin and clothed in designer garb. He had pierced an ear. Acknowledging me he tried to speak but the words I expected to be an explanation stuck in his throat. I tore off half the cabbage and threw it in the trash.
I’m falling behind the curve…
Bonus Nilsson: