Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Fine I'm Meditating Now What

Miss Missives started January on a quest to usher 2009 in as the year of Zen. Rather than go around with her red pen and rule book, Miss Missives longed to let her tightly-wound bun down, slip on a pair of soft, spangled Indian slippers, read over the collective of AAYSR-submitted blogs and mutter phrases like let it be, all you need is love and gettin' better all the time. Yes, she had been listening to an anthology of Beatles while she constructed the plan, so? In her mind, gone would be the irritated directives, the smarmy admonitions, and the marginally soothing salve of tepid praise to make up for the true and real criticism. 2009 would come to show Miss Missives as friend to the people, nurturer to the tortured writer's souls that litter the internet.

Alas, this recuperative plan failed right out the gate. Maybe it was ill-advised for me to think that a peacock could change it's feathers. Maybe the AAYSR gods sent me onknees to test my mettle, challenge my commitment. Whatever the case, I've failed because I can't join hands with my fellow bloggers and sing kumbaya, let's all just do our own thing and heap praise on each other. Miss Missives is already starting to feel like blogging is becoming one giant daisy chain and I won't add to the masturbatory milieu.

Why does everyone and their uncle want to write? Why is everyone looking to get published or syndicated. Just because you slap some paint on a wall doesn't make you a painter, and just because you have a blog doesn't make you a writer. However, if you can expel gas from your rectum at will, I think you should be allowed to call yourself a f'artiste. All these would-be writers run around dreaming about book deals like it's the next great home-based biz, sit in your jammies and collect a fat paycheck. Like books just write themselves or all you need to do is type out nine-hundred random words and there will be staggering lines of editors just waiting to lap it up. Can I just ask these people, are there trees in your world? Writing is work and one of those industries that even if you have talent oozing out of your pores you may still never make it happen.

At first glance, Onknees sounds like it has potential. There is the part about being on one's knees which struck Miss Missives as appropriately submissive. Then there is the heavily glossed lips that festoon the header. The first post makes an apt comparison between Amy Winehouse and Jerry Seinfeld. Still, a dive into the content proves disheartening. There is one post where Annette regales us with the intel that she goes commando but without further details, this is just an uncomfortable non sequitur. The second part of that post is great but sadly, written by someone else. There is other good material but alas, penned by another. There are prime examples of the daisy chain I speak of. There are posts that challenge you to read through them without experiencing vertigo from all the bits and bobs going on. There is a book review that screams 8th grade homework and a post about female bosses that is a confusing mix of other's opinions that actually perpetuates the negative stereotypes about women in lead positions that it seems to criticize. There is even one post so boring I fell asleep reading it. I'm not speaking figuratively or metaphorically, I actually fell asleep.

I don't mind as a matter of democratization that every Tom, Dick and Mary has his or her dirty, little corner of the web. One of the great things about blogging is anyone can do it even those that patently shouldn't. What irks me is the utter lack of self-awareness and real critical understanding of one's talents and skills that seems to pervade the blogosphere. It's like watching the b-roll of American Idol auditions, not that Miss Missives watches that sort of thing. For every blogger who accurately measures their own ability there are ten more who think they are what they are in fact not, be it introspective, funny, poignant, snarky, you name it. Good writers can make waiting in line at the bank a good story. Good writers can make regular people seem larger than life through the way they uncover the details. There are good writers out there, there are, but the better part of the blogosphere is being populated by a bunch of sh'artistes.

You're lucky it's just one finger






Have a lolly dear 'cause you suck hard.

28 comments:

  1. My head hurts. And the post so boring that you fell asleep? Can't be found, apparently. Too bad because it's too early to be up yet.

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  2. Once again I couldn't get past the ellipses. It is pervasive, y'all, this chronic misuse of those three little dots. I just can't handle it. Hold me?

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  3. The part that pissed me off the most is that this blogger is using a template that was also used by one of my favorite bloggers, ever, who disappeared from the face of the earth a few months ago, and hasn't been seen since. And, when I saw it, I hoped that it was her, but clearly it wasn't, because this blog SUCKS ASS.

    And yes, Calamity, I will hold you, because I need holding, too.

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  4. LB, I thought the same. And was bitterly disappointed.

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  5. You must enjoy doing this "rip 'em to shreds" routine, otherwise you wouldn't do it. After all, you're not getting paid for it, right? So perhaps you've found the Zen in it all - it's the ass-reaming journey that counts, not the end destination of a crap-free blogosphere (if that's really the goal here).

    I can meditiate on that. Ommmmm...

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  6. So, what you're saying is, don't hold my breath for a book deal? You fucking whore, you just burt my bubble and shattered my dreams and all that other shit.

    Very nice review, Miss M.

    I'm still going to hold on to that little sliver of hope on my book deal.

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  7. DPH, I think you are actually a very astute story teller. You have voice, you're expressive, you know how to spin the details to heighten the drama, and uh, you actually write, all the time.

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  8. Awww, shucks! Thanks Miss M. Excuse me while I do a happy dance and touch myself.

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  9. f'artiste made my day! sh'artiste made my week! please don't read my blog, I didn't submit it and I don't want your comments... yet. :)Maybe in a year or two.

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  10. Rach, you fucking dildo, that's like telling these people "don't touch the wet paint"

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  11. yes, because I actually WANT people to read my blog, and to criticize in a helpful way, whore.

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  12. Two totally unrelated notes:

    Ms M: The lollipop? Funniest thing, hands down, I have ever seen on this website. And that's kind of hard to quantify. You are officially my goddamn hero.

    LB: For the record, I finally cleaned up my shittastic sidebar. Just for you. *smooch*

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  13. Rachi: We only review when asked. Hence the name. Happy to clarify, if it wasn't already self-evident...

    (note proper use of ellipses)

    Whackman: I must admit that some days it feels damn good to rip the shit out of some unsuspecting blogger's quivering rectum.

    Mr: Lady: You doll. I'd totally make out with you except I might be contagious.

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  14. Know what else feels good? Sometimes I like to picture the reviewees as having some sort of physical handicap. Yeah, like one really small hand. Or incontinence. Because that makes the reviews here even better.

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  15. I just imagine some of them as having really small brains and not testicals. Because in a lot of cases, I'm right.

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  16. I can say this, with a clear conscience: I wouldn't fuck either of the last two reviewees. Mostly because I'm engaged. But also because I think they would drain my creative resources.

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  17. Whack-man-

    Apropos no? Perhaps you are correct and I should find the Zen in the shredding. Will we ever clean up the blogosphere? No I don't think so but for all the muck we've trudged through, we've uncovered some excellant reads.

    Thanks Mr.Lady, somedays it just feels good to tell someone to suck it.

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  18. Miss M: If I ever actually grow a pair and let you review me, no matter what the review ends up being, please give me your lollipops.

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  19. LB: Your ellipses were correct, but you forgot a period on your sentence.
    I was making a joke re: being reviewed. I completely understand the process, helmet-headed and short-bused as I may be.

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  20. I think you should totally sign up, Rachie. Our bark is worse than our bite. Sort of.

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  21. "Our bark is worse than our bite."
    Uhhh, are you drunk LB?
    For the record I do think DPH should get a book deal. Whore has a voice for sure. Hell, she wants everyone else to write a book as well. Including me about dog bung hole. Who knows? Maybe some day it will all come together. Or pucker or something.

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  22. Man, Mongolian, you hiding in my underwear drawer or sumpin? I was in fact drinking while posting.

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  23. Love Bites - That's good, because I submitted my ass, um, I mean blog, more than a month ago and I await the assault with baited breath.

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  24. Whack, whadja use for bait? Worms? That's worse than garlic.

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  25. You know, I have to be the first to say that what this site has needed for a long time is a Dick Whackman.

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  26. That's what I'm naming my next sex toy.

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  27. Dear Calamity - here's the "bait":

    http://letitblurt.wordpress.com/2008/11/21/kick-me-please/#comments

    Dear Love Bites - If only Hugh Jackman's first name was Richard.

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Grow a pair.