F I N D E R "Now where did I see that, you know--that, oh, come on--it was somewhere near a graphic--I think . . ."
This search engine is for you, my friend.
A R C H I V E In terms of the Internet, there is no out-of-print. Here are posts that, like so many tattoos, seemed like great ideas at the time (which was often 2:00 AM as I recall). They're archived not because they're worth preserving, but preemptively--because you'd surely run across them elsewhere. As usual, Stewart Brand was right: You do own your words.
S C R A P S These are observations and rants from other times and other places. Neatly packaged as "Essays," they are, in fact, a greatest hits compilation culled from monthly columns, articles and--yes--essays. Inclusion here is driven by two dynamics: Either the piece pleased me greatly or resonated with the readers. (Sometimes both happened at once.)
C O N T E X T This site's theoretical photo collection. Like my extremely casual relationship with social media, I think I'm failing to understand the intense need to show strangers my photos. Dear god, in years past, all one had to do was feign illness to get out of those inevitable after-winter-holiday dinner parties that culminated in 123 mind-numbing slide carousels. Tell you what--If I've got something that absolutely needs exhibiting, it'll be here (although "here" may eventually point to Flickr).
A D D R E S S Click to send me email. While fawning kudos are almost guaranteed to elicit a response from me, well-reasoned differences of opinions are also welcome. I love the smell of debate in the morning--it reminds me of coffee. No, wait: That's because I'm drinking coffee. Anyway, you get the idea. Important: Make sure you replace the "AT" and "DOT" with the real things before you press "Send."
F E E D The subscription link for this site's RSS feed. I'm always reading about whole segments of users who can't seem to get their heads around RSS. And I, in turn, can't get my head around that. Paraphrasing Douglas Adams, RSS is your cyber-pooch who's fun to be with. Every morning he bounds out of the front door and brings you back an edition of The Daily You. What could be clearer?
While this site has been in suspended animation, I certainly haven't.
Over at culturehack.me there's a soft roll-out of a new, unified CultureHack website. And by soft roll-out, I’m suggesting that it’s best to see the next six weeks or so as a kind of beta test.
The question you’re not asking (though my ego insistently clings to the delusion that you are) is Why? To which the shortest possible answer is Twitter (the second-shortest response, however, is the much more pleasing to me: Fucking Twitter.)
Over the years, I’ve distributed content across an array of sites via a number of platforms and hosting services, including most recently the soon-to-be vaporized Posterous. And why is it about to vaporized? Because–wait for it–Twitter bought Posterous for the express purpose of shutting it down. So yes, Twitter is the reason I'm now at culturehack.me. Fucking Twitter. (It really is more pleasing with the adjective.)
The impending demise of Posterous has forced me to migrate a number of my sites elsewhere, and in in doing so, I decided to centralize the stuff I’ve been posting–well, the things worth preserving anyway. This time around, I’ve created one place for the iPhoneography, book excerpts, essays, political punditry, recent entries in my Twitter stream, rants expanded from tweets and, of course, my blog.
So yeah–you're cordially invited to my newest virtual atelier, brought to you by the crack Business Plan Division of Fucking Twitter . . .
Does the new site compile everything I’ve ever tossed online with trademark hubris and insouciance? Of course not–are you insane? Instead, I’m treating this centralization as a kind of reboot. The legacy content there can be thought of as a curation prior to moving forward into new territory. (I’ve given a lot of thought about what this terra nova might be, and there will be screed on that in due time.) But right now, it's me editing myself and blatantly eliminating the boring, the thin and the dated. And also–it goes without saying–anything that’s become embarrassing. Screw the inviolate rules of perpetual posts with retrofitted strike-throughs: I’m talking image management-cum-manipulation here.
A word of warning at the outset is indicated–lots of things there remain to be tweaked. For instance, in many cases, the multimedia links didn’t survive the migration from Posterous and will need to be tended to manually. So yes, there’s still a thin coating of construction dust on almost everything: typefaces, kerning, formatting and, of course, the aforementioned videos and music. (But to balance things out a little, there’s also the delicious New Site smell that we all love so much.)
I’m making April Fool’s Day my deadline for getting this fit-and-finish stuff done–which pretty much gives the game away, don’t you think?
So once again, in case you blew by the new address, you can follow my ongoing adventures at:
And while we're discussing changed addresses, know too that I'm also getting rid of my Internet provider and with it all of those legacy Mindspring email addresses. (Better to fix everything at once, rather than endless serial changes.)
Going forward, my email is being handled by Google (thus detaching it from any ISP) and my new email address is:
And that's it, really. Against all odds, I'm not dead and--at the time of this writing, anyway--still tattoo-free and more-or-less in command of my faculties and what I've always insisted in calling my prose "talent."
In which the Author tentatively integrates his distributed cyberself . . .
Clearly you can see that I am bleeding
Clearly you can see my clothes are torn
Clearly this demands an explanation
Only I can offer none
My other life . . .
Analysis has failed to find a motive
Hypnotists have failed to beak the code
Journalists are camped out on my doorstep
Perchance that I might slip and drop the key
My other life . . .
I slip away to my other life
With no regret or remorse
Happy and gay in my other life
No need to wake me Monday morning
From my other life
--Lloyd Cole, "My Other Life "
In case it isn't noted, your attention is called to the new additions at the top of the right-hand sidebar. There you'll find both daily and occasional updates that feature material that (to me) doesn't necessarily fit into whatever it is this blog does. (Posts like this or maybe even this one.)
I'vealso added "Playlist" to the right-hand sidebar, which links to my selection, programming and annotation of songs over at Blip.fm. This list of tunes will be growing--thus, if you're interested in my Other DJ Life, periodic visits to "Playlist" may be indicated.
Currently there remains artifacts of cross-posting between this blog and the Posterous account. This represents a period of testing to make sure this integrated scheme would actually work. Going forward, new and exclusive Posterous material will dynamically push the cross-posts off the sidebar and three distinct types of content will be displayed, each according to their own posting rhythms. At least that's my hope. If in practice creating a link-hub to Distributed Me proves not as intriguing as it initially appears, then I'll simply pull the plug and the song demos will once again take their place at the top of the sidebar.
This integration isn't really about visitor convenience or online brand management; I'm operating on a more intuitive level--feeling my way to something I can't quite articulate. Perhaps, since the material really does differ in each source, I'm hoping to create the cubistic 3-D of a Hockney polaroid montage, hoping that epigrammatic daily observations juxtaposed to less-frequent, Tumblr-esque notes, links and media and then parked next to the longer, improvisational essays here might create a kind of triangulation that could be interesting. Or not. We'll just have to see . . .
Update: I've also added "Bricolage" to the right-hand sidebar. It links to CultureHack, Tumbled--a digital commonplace book for stuff that catches my eye as I careen through the InterWebs.
Pipetting all those well-plates, baby,
sends your thumbs into overdrive
And spending long nights in the lab
makes it hard for your love to thrive
What you need is automation, girl,
something easy as 1 2 3
So put down that pipette, honey,
I got something that will set you free
And it’s called epMotion
( ‘cause you deserve something really great)
Girl, you need epMotion
(yeah girl it’s time to automate)
It’s got to be epMotion
(no more pipetting late at night)
--"It's Called epMotion"
You know, sometimes a commercial for yet another automated pipetting system hits the screen and I think to myself, Sheridan, does the world really need a new way of transferring reagents and extracting nucleic acids? If you're like me, you know the answer's a harsh, unequivocal No. Goddamit, shouldn't manual pipetting be enough? Why can't lab techs learn the basics like we all did, back there in Chemistry for English Majors? Oh, sure, there's that whole reproducibility over millions of pipetted samples--but still . . .
And then along comes the epMotion 5075MC. It's made by Eppendorf, a little company with one big, crazy dream--to get news of its automated pipetting system on iPods and iPhones the world over. I can only imagine that, after a solid week of no sleep whatsoever, Eppendorf's agency finally makes its Big Presentation--the idea designed to put the epMotion 5075MC on the lips of Tweens everywhere. The head of the agency slowly walks to the head of the conference table and says, "Gentlemen, I only have two words regarding the finest automated pipetting system in the world: Boy Band".
And so "It's Called epMotion" was born. And damned if I didn't want that sleek, machine-tooled baby humming away in the corner of my office, giving me the security of knowing that, yes, I can simultaneously finish my novel and cure rare, tropical diseases. It kind of makes me feel like, well, Buckeroo Banzai, with that whole particle-physics-plus-rock-and-roll riff.
So damn you, Eppendorf--this ad never gave me a chance, did it? You had me at Less reagents / Faster workflow / Saves you money / Well, well, well . . . But you knew that, didn't you?
No more pipetting late at night / Girl, this time we got it right. Indeed.
Being yet another theater project update and a return to full-time writing about flashbacks . . .
Now I sit with different faces
In rented rooms and foreign places
All the people I was kissing
Some are here and some are missing
In the nineteen-nineties
I never dreamt that I would get to be
The creature that I always meant to be
But I thought in spite of dreams
You'd be sitting somewhere here with me
'Cause we were never being boring
We had too much time to find for ourselves...
And we were never holding back or worried that
Time would come to an end
We were always hoping that, looking back
You could always rely on a friend
--Pet Shop Boys, "Being Boring"
In the past week my work on the novel took a backseat to (or at least a costarring role with) the theater project site. During this time, my normal six-hour book-writing days weighed-in at something like three hours. The rest of the time (which wound up being way more than those missing daily three hours) was devoted to rethinking and redesigning the website of the theatrical presentation, as explained in the previous post.
All those years in publishing have made me a pretty good estimator. Exactly a week ago to almost the hour, Bazz and I sat in a neighborhood grill and, over a couple of beers, decided to Get Serious about theater project site. At the time, I said it'd take a week and, well . . .
For those interested, the sneak preview of the new site has been updated to reflect the latest, near-final changes to the design. It can be found here. Being a sneak preview, not all the links are working--but the ones needed to navigate the three sample pages are functional. Also, the overall speed of this preview also approximates its real-world build and refresh rates.
(And--ahem--as for the fan mail I've received regarding my bio photo in the sneak peek of the site, gee, er, thanks--I think. The favorable response suggests that (a) I should smile more often in photos or (b) continue to use artful lighting or (c) move the photo to my blog biography and retire the pic of Snotty Me (which saddens, because I work very hard at being snotty). Or maybe all of the above. Also know that the whole Gregory House Thing has already been noted by friends. Unfortunately--for all of us--they are referring to my personality and leg in addition to the beard. But, again, thanks for the well-meaning comparisons to an unpleasant Vicodin addict . . . )
CultureHack, Tumbled Cultural core sampling and sidelong glances at pop debris. An improvised miscellanea for those with more oblique and idiosyncratic tastes; a digital cabinet of curiosities.
CultureHack, Tracked See this as yet more context, albeit sonic: A slowly growing list of annotated songs added to online rather than in a Moleskine. I make no assurance about the absolute quality of these tunes, only their ability to resonate with me--often in unintended ways.
Formal Absences is a theater-piece companion to the forthcoming CD release, The Formal Absences of Precious Things, and Formal Absence, a novel. This sidebar section will feature the most recent versions of the song demos as they become available.