For Love Or Money
For some it's loneliness. Others seek approval. Some have got something to sell or stories to tell but for most of us, we just can't help our selves.
Like a crack head jigging with coke-psychosis or Johnny Broken, off his meds again, riding a schizoid rocket -- its gotta come out and circumstances be damned. If it doesn't happen here, it's gonna happen on the streets man. Without the internet all these bloggers would be talking to themselves on the bus, making a fuss at the 12 items or less check out stand ... reading poems about cats aloud to the crowd or just grabbing their crotches going -- "click this, click this."
Yeah, for some of us, it's a sickness.
Posted Tuesday, August 04, 2009
If you're so great, why aren't you rich?
"Look around you. People are taking digital pictures. They’re recording their own songs. They’re shooting, editing, scoring movies. They’re scanning artwork. They’re writing essays. They’re sharing stories, and recipes and patterns and ideas. They’re supporting each other, inspiring each other, feeding and cheering and promoting each other.
The only ‘problem’? Oh my god, no one’s making money off all these blogs and personal websites and zines and chats. So they can’t be real. They can’t count. If they were any good, they’d turn a profit, right?
Just like cave painters had three picture deals. Just like Shakespeare had licensing partners. Just like Mozart was a millionaire, Van Gogh was pursued by paparazzi, Nijinsky had his own MTV pilot… "from Everyday Matters
For some it's loneliness. Others seek approval. Some have got something to sell or stories to tell but for most of us, we just can't help our selves.
Like a crack head jigging with coke-psychosis or Johnny Broken, off his meds again, riding a schizoid rocket -- its gotta come out and circumstances be damned. If it doesn't happen here, it's gonna happen on the streets man. Without the internet all these bloggers would be talking to themselves on the bus, making a fuss at the 12 items or less check out stand ... reading poems about cats aloud to the crowd or just grabbing their crotches going -- "click this, click this."
Yeah, for some of us, it's a sickness.
Image from Mister Wonderful by Daniel Clowes. ( via)
Labels: brain farts