Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Has the blogging moment passed?

Well, Harriet has evolved that is to say, evolved and evolving. Is the blog moment over? Perhaps. There are few LitBlogs that make me want to revisit. There is perhaps, only so much of one poet one might want to know or hear from. I will miss the mix of poets posting over at Harriet. Oddly, I will miss the potential for discussion even if that didn't happen quite as often as one might want. Guess we're all just too sensitive? 

Currently making the rounds on Facebook, and thanks to Danielle.
Haven't read this strip in years...

Tomorrow is the last day for prose poem submissions.

5 comments:

JP said...

I'm a trend-setter, I tell you.

pam said...

This is not a hate-on-Facebook comment. I am not against Facebook. I walked past the Facebook headquarters in Palo Alto some months ago and the front lobby was filled with hanging bike racks that were filled and this touched my heart because I can never harbor a mean thought against someone who bikes to work. I have been invited to join Facebook by both poet and non-poet friends in the past and have declined not because I hate Facebook but because I find the idea of yet another online forum, esp. an online networking forum, overwhelming to say the least. But when I hear about poetry/poetics discussions largely happening on Facebook, my gut reaction is I don't like it. Unless a good number of these discussions are happening on walls that are accessible to the public, I don't like it because it is taking something that was once part of the public commons and privatizing it. It's like saying poets and poetry are members of a closed system (no big whoop), and it's saying that this is how it is and how it should be (hmmm). What about Nikki Reimer's excellent points below, about finding and keeping oneself open to audiences beyond one's coterie zone? Isn't this, like, the point of literature?

mongibeddu said...

The semi-public nature of Facebook seems like a turn back to the listserv model ... a return with a difference. Also, the evolutions of online discussion are, perhaps, like the history of a scene defined by its reading venues. Houses, bars, gallery spaces, universities. Anyway, the flux is palpable ... a thick fog that makes walking interesting, driving dangerous.

Ben F.

Lemon Hound said...

One of the many ways in which Facebook bothers me is the small, specialized nature of the network. I never know who will turn up on the blog, and on Twitter the range of feeds is lively. It isn't that I don't appreciate the highly specialized nature of the pool of friends on FB, rather that it feels very small.

It also feels very "tucked away." As if we're fine with our small virtual worlds.

Are we in training to be divorced from a physical world? That's an alarmist question, but a timely one I think.

FB makes a corporate pattern of these very communities as well. It can, at the moment, still be used as a form of protest, but we are increasingly allowing our creative and cultural communications to be corralled into "private" and often corporate spaces.

More thoughts on this, but for now...

Old 333 said...

Facebook = stole your poems. Google = paid you for them and protected your copyright (really well - they reserve a limited single-use right to any portion bla bla and otherwise simply lock your copyright to your name for you, how nice)*

Blogger, folks.

I've earned something like $1.83 in three months (they pay you out every $100 - be a while at this rate...). Now that's better than almost any poet earns for three-hundred odd fresh caught ones. Plus, now people can read my stuff, instead of me trying to figure out where to get in at the bottom and get stepped on for years until I write the way I'm...supposed to.

Screw that, I'm better at writing than any agent I've ever corresponded with - which is like 2 of them. They were both dumb as toasters - god, one of them made a habit of doing focus groups for money. Pleargh.

I stuck an Amazon ad on my pride an' joy today, at the bottom (the colours and design were acceptable - VERY important, more so than the actual idea of self-publishing in a non-vanity, high-performance fashion)(plus i DON'T ugly up my poems, I mean the very, except I have a little taste problem with pastel colours i am TOLD and fixed it). They promise me something like 8% of any sales that result through my website.

Like I could ever prove it, right? But what the heck. They sell books from small bookstores and found me a beautiful copy of Tales Of Pirx The Pilot (and More Tales) for nine dollars from a corner book-shop in the States. Cool. I'll do that advertising. Google, I'd put their ads on for free. Look at the service they're giving me. I'm up and running, I live and breathe and my words are poking out of the ground all fresh-coloured like.

Facebook...advertises on your stuff while stealing it. I won't say what I think that's like. There are ladies and gentlem(o)n here. I'm a janitor (sometimes), I don't mind that stuff. Familiar, although I can't spray FaeceBook with a green-scented coconut-based non-ionizing ningy bottle and zap it with a rag. Wish I could.

Blog on, ladies and germinals and the more advanced members as well. It's just a web-page. It's not the end of books or writing, and "blogs" are just a webpage called a blog. Hey, brand. Fine, I hear it's handy. Never throw out the handy.

Listening to Ween's I Am The Stallion #2 has distracted me ENTIRELY from this conversation. The Pod = such a good record.

Never throw out the brandy (yuck, brandy yuckyuckycukkkk). Never throw out the dandy. I broke my poemizer sir can you fisdit for me? It's in the road. I think it's his lung.

Ta n' g'day - PG

ps - as to the end of books - just WHY is that thing called a KINDLE?
my next novel (yah, sure, those are f'in HARD): THE ALEXANDRIA VIRUS

P

*(at least, that's how the fine print looked to me - i read well but take a lot of pills for madness and so would not look good in a courtroom plus this hair).