Saturday, June 29, 2002

Locke Link


In my interview over at Frank Paynter's site, I mentioned something Chris Locke had said on NPR's Marketplace show and put an audio link into the text. I hate audio links, especially if the stuff is interesting and I want to save the actual words. So then I thought, hmm, I should put some of the actual text into the interview, but then I couldn't decide which part, because the whole thing was pretty damned interesting. So, without further ado, here's the whole thing.

[BTW, Jeneane did the hard work of transcibing it. Take a bow, girlfriend. Thanks for the words, Chris.]


Chris Locke, Marketplace Morning Report Transcript: Weblogs 


I think one of the hottest things going on today on the net is weblogging – or blogging to its fans. And basically, it’s very simple tools that let you write whatever occurs to you on a daily basis. It’s sort of like a journal; entries are date stamped and in chronological order, but aside from that, it’s just tools that you don’t have to know all the technical ins and outs to get your stuff online. 



Sounds like a diary. Why would anyone want to put something that personal online? 


That’s been a question for a lot of people. Especially people from traditional media, saying it’s trivial nonsense, it’s garbage. But garbage to one person is of high value to another, and the way the Internet works is that people group together around things that interest them. So the audience isn’t the mass audience, it’s little tiny micro audiences that aggregate around things people are saying that resonate with their own concerns. There has been an enormous amount of stuff written and said about the phenomenon of weblogging, which two years ago didn’t exist, and today there are something on the order of two million of these things in existence. It’s been a hockey stick spike. 


And the most important and interesting thing about it is that people are talking about things that are deeply intimate and personal. 



Why? 


Well, that’s a good question. People are talking about things like love and loss and joy and death and sex and like that. And the fact is, there’s never been an outlet for people to say who we are. We have news and advertising and politics and mindless entertainment ala Disney, if I can say that, not that I have anything against mindless entertainment, but we just haven’t had, as a species, a way to talk to each other through a public medium about things that really concern our lives. 



There’s been a lot of bemoaning of the fact that the Internet has not lived up to its potential. This could be one aspect of the Net that is living up to it’s potential? 


Well, it speaks exactly to that question. The moaning and groaning is coming from the expectations of the commercial sector, which says, it didn’t pan out to be what we wanted it to be, which was another advertising medium. But at the same moment that there is this hand wringing and disappointment on the part of corporations, you have this ramp of people enthusiastically getting online for the precise purpose of speaking to each other about matters that are critically important to us as human beings. Not about what we can buy, or what we bought, or what we plan to buy, but what we’re doing here on this planet, what we’re doing with each other, and what we might be doing. 


I don’t mean to make it sound so deadly serious. Sometimes it is, and sometimes its lots of laughs. Some of it is noise, and some of it is amazing stuff that just hasn’t ever had a chance to “be” before. 



What does it say that it took the Internet for this kind of discussion/dialogue to take place? 


It’s the thing that’s most exciting about the Internet. Broadcast media have at their heart the function of serving as a carrier wave for advertising. So the content that’s developed for broadcast – and I mean that very generally, both print and television and so forth – is developed to get the kind of bell curve audience that will gain the most eyeballs for the advertiser. 


The concern is not what we care about. It’s sitcoms and sound bites and little news blips. But they don’t tend to be those edgy sorts of sometimes bothersome matters that really define what it is to be a human being. This, to me, is really important. And to a couple million other people who have just discovered each other. 


It’s really self-selecting. People hook up around what they’re interested in. I’ve read kids who have got to be no more than 15 years old writing just brilliant stuff. 



Not to burst the anti-commercial bubble, but it seems to me this is something the publishing world would be interested in? 


I say that in Gonzo Marketing. From this kind of source we are going to get the next Milton, the next Shakespeare, the next Mozart, the next whatever kind of genius people we’ve had in the past. That didn’t stop at some point in our history. It is still happening, and they’re emerging.  


Film makers and digital music, the whole nine yards, is coming bottom up. That’s my whole rant. It’s coming bottom up in the sense that they’re not top-ten best sellers, they’re not even coming out of writing programs at universities. Today they’re 12 years old and they’re in chat rooms and they’re weblogging, and they’re getting really literate and really good with the language, and some of these people can just turn cartwheels. It’s going to be pretty amazing. 


But the fact is, they’re not motivated now to go the traditional route, because people have total creative control. Yes, you can make money if you can sell a book or an article. But they’re getting immediate and instant gratification form people sending them an email two minutes later saying, “Oooh, killer post, man.” 


Friday, June 28, 2002

Frankly, Frank


Frank has interviewed me over at his site. I'm sure he added all that spicy stuff -- I would never talk like that. Well ... maybe just now and then among friends. Thanks, Frank

Thursday, June 27, 2002

Summer Kitchen Strategy


My mom had a habit of getting up early on those summer days that started hot and only got hotter like today, to do her cooking early. She did her preemptive boiling at dawn. She'd boil a dozen eggs to use later for deviled eggs -- hers were zingy with mayo, sharp mustard, bit of vinegar, the perfunctory paprika. She boiled potatoes, so they could cool in the fridge and turn into potato salad by the end of the day. The last boiling water was for real iced tea -- which was hot at dawn and ice cold by lunch.

She used to sit on the porch steps with us on those real scorchers that ended in rain by evening. She'd sing "Soon It's Gonna Rain" from The Fantastics to us kids and watch the heat lightning that would bring a cooler breeze.

Wednesday, June 26, 2002

Rageboy Rocks, Rolls, Returns


Big thanks to Gary Turner for giving our esteemed blogmentor Rageboy his Lifetime Achievement Award with the unusual result of NOT putting him out to pasture, like old Academy Award winners, but au contraire, bringing him back to life. Rumor has it he's pregnant. So that's why he was in confinement. That first three months is always dicey. But no better time than summer to be barefoot and pregnant.

Tuesday, June 25, 2002

Summer Love


I am really in love with this summer. I bought fruit today -- cherries, plums, apricots, bananas, peaches, cantaloupe. I love the lushness of the fruit, the colors of the skins, I like picking off the little stickers as I wash and fondle each piece. The sun on my skin is welcome, I'm not fretting about sunblock this year, rather unlike me. My skin is getting the blush of those cherries. I bought a lipstick last week called Watermelon. Going native, hair getting streaky blonde and dry, sand between toes, a wisp of bright green seaweed dries on the back of my calf, I'm flip-flopping as I walk.

Spending long afternoons with my kid and his friends, I walk about in my one-piece bathing suit for hours on end, it rides up a bit on my bottom, but I could care less. More serious considerations to attend to -- sandcastles to build, popsicles to lick, lemonade stands to staff at the end of the driveway. We argue over pricing -- 25 cents I say -- these modern kids look at me like I'm nuts and say $1.00.

Monday, June 24, 2002

Water Prayer


Somewhere in Texas, on this hot day in June, my friend Liz is burying her mother who died of cancer last week. Today is the funeral. I'm in Boston thinking of her and swimming and swimming and swimming in the blue pool and sending out a water prayer for her as my hands come together in prayerful positions, then part, one breast stroke after another. Hope she's managing, give her strength, let her heal, let her get through this, let her cry a poolful of tears. Splash, splash, splash, splash.


I am remembering as I dive down below the water and with googles see chrystal blue water and people's bodies suspended in watery support, the day my mother died and how disturbing it was to see people rushing about in the world for no good reason. Didn't they know the game was over? Where were they rushing to?


Can a prayer travel from a swimming pool of blue water in Boston to a hot dry Texas funeral home? Perhaps. My strokes stir a friendly breeze from the East Coast which wanders west and puffs a small wind her way. This prayer flips the edge of a dotted swiss curtain in the front room, next to one of the ushers who is sweating in his black suit as he hugs Liz, telling her not to worry, everything's gonna be okay -- the day is cooling off and the evening will be better.

Sunday, June 23, 2002

Why I Go To Church


I go to church most Sundays. I belong to the Pilgrim Church here in Lexington. It's a UCC, United Church of Christ church, you can check out the link, but it won't tell you why I go to church.

Let me start with why many people DON'T go to church. I had a really interesting email conversation with Mike Zellers about why he doesn't go to church. If I've got it right, he said there was so much language in the sermon and other parts of the service that he didn't necessarily agree with or believe in, he felt it would be hypocritical to sit there and either not say the words or mouth the words not believing them. Things like, (from my church program this morning) "(Leader) Lift up our hearts. (People) We lift our hearts to God. (Leader) Christ is with us. (People) Christ is in our midst. (Leader) Let us pray."

I get what he means. You might be tempted to stand up and say, "Hey, wait a minute, I'm not so sure Christ is in our midst. I mean, I'm not sure at all. Honestly, I don't even know what that means. And let us pray ... I'm not sure I can get my head around "let us pray." If I can only pray, if I actually believe this thing about "Christ in in our midst," well, you'll have to count me out on the praying part too."

Not a lot of people say this kind of thing at church. In fact, people who think this way tend NOT to go to church. But what they don't know is that a lot of churchgoers have days where they don't believe Christ is in their midst either. Me included. There are days where I could testify that Christ is definately NOT in my vicinity. Heck, there are days when I'm not even sure who Christ is, or was, or if he ever really was at all! But going to church is about more than this.


First of all, it's about going some place on a given day of the week -- not work, not Starbuck's, not the health club -- where you meet people of all ages who want to think about spirit. They are not doing spreadsheets, they are not ordering Cafe Americano Venti with extra ice, they are not doing bicep curls -- all worthy endeavors I spend time on other days of the week. They are trying to figure out how they might love others better and improve the spirits of those around them, and, perhaps selfishly, but probably not, improve their spirit as a result. I particularly like being there among MEN who are trying to cultivate that side of their lives, since most everything in our society pushes men in the other direction.

Of course, I also go to church because Judy Brain, our minister is so excellent. Her sermons are terrific, moving, funny, cogent, relevant, inspirational. I go because I love the hymns and the poetry of the lyrics -- old time poetry. I go because I love the Bible stories and can't imagine reading any American, English or European literature ever written, without some knowledge of this book. I love celebrating the seasons of Christmas, Lent, Easter and the sense of continuity this gives you as the years go by. I love the symbolism of the wine and wafer, the process of communion, the knowledge that people have done this for centuries and are doing this all over the world on Sunday morning at the same time I'm doing it. I go because I want my son to understand the traditions of the church and feel welcome there, wherever he ends up -- praying in a small college chapel, or visiting the Cathedral of Notre Dame.

I go because I have a community of friends there that welcome you no matter what tattered and torn state your soul might be in any given week. They know loss, they know kindness, they know patience, they know love and how to talk about these things. They know everyone will face death of family, friends and self and have ways to fathom these events. I go to give this back to everyone there, since they've been so generous to me.

This morning we sang "Lord, I Want To Be A Christian." -- the very simple classic Negro Spiritual that says: "Lord, I want to be a Christian in my heart," in verse one. The next three verses are just as plain, "Lord, I want to be more loving in my heart." followed by "Lord, I want to be more holy in my heart." and finally "Lord, I want to be like Jesus in my heart." It says it all.

I go to church because I want to feel suffering when I am near those who are suffering, and try to give them some comfort. I go to church because I want to open my heart to pain and joy and not shy away from it. I go to church because I want to get in the habit of choosing love over fear, every time I get the chance.