If your main reason for talking is to socialize, you’ll want to talk about whatever everyone else is talking about. Like say the missing Malaysia Airlines plane. But if instead your purpose is to gain and spread useful insight, so that we can all understand more about things that matter, you’ll want to look for relatively neglected topics. You’ll seek topics that are important and yet little discussed, where more discussion seems likely to result in progress, and where you and your fellow discussants have a comparative advantage of expertise. You can use this clue to help infer the conversation motives of the people you talk with, and of yourself. I expect you’ll find that almost everyone mainly cares more about talking to socialize, relative to gaining insight.
I never thought I’d get to this point but I guess I have: I’m so old that my prose style has, for better or worse, stuck. I’m no longer just imitating the last voice I read. And I’ve read enough and tried enough things over the years that I have a lot of tools at my disposal. Not enough — never enough — and I have to keep relearning a lot of what I’d previously learned, because I don’t write with enough frequency that it’s a continuous motion; you can see the scratch marks with each fresh start. Still, they’re my scratch marks.
probably my favorite scene was when natasha and steve are in the car. u kno what i mean. bros being bros! when are they gonna release a marvel movie that’s just 100% bro time, zero percent sad stuff. marvel universe: friends forever. would be here for that.
I think about this ALL THE TIME. I remember the New Avengers annual where it was basically just “OK, Luke and Jessica are getting married and everyone’s moving into Avengers Mansion, let’s just watch them all interact!” And I was like “WHY AREN’T ALL COMIC BOOKS LIKE THIS”
Superhero comic as hang-out sitcom is the only good kind of superhero comic. (So the Giffen-DeMatteis Justice League, basically.)
One day in your life, or perhaps every day, you will discover that someone has succeeded in the exact avenue in which you desire to succeed. Said usurper of your dreams might be a friend or a nemesis; perhaps they are a ghost who lives inside Twitter making up facts about themselves designed…
what conditions would have to be in place for you to feel comfortable with accepting a sincere compliment?
That I know and trust the judgment of the person offering it. Also, try complimenting me outside of a forum where any response is necessarily a performance; anon love carries exactly as much weight as anon hate.
Your thoroughness and rigour about topics that you dig into is something I really admire, and I only say it "secretly" because I'm embarrassed I get by so much on bluff.
Thanks for this. One of the reasons I’ve almost entirely stopped attempting to write for publication is that I was becoming depressed by how much bluffing I was doing as a matter of course. I’ve always bluffed to one degree or another — I’m a generalist, it comes with the territory — but my ability to keep bluffing was overwhelmed by the amount of opinions I was being asked (if only by myself) to have.
you're hardly as bad as your anon says but also you probably rarely get anon "secret thoughts" like that because you have such a confirmation bias about low self-worth (is that redundant?) that what would be the point
They Can’t Bully You If You Bully Yourself First: The Jonathan Bogart Story
I can't remember if you still follow me or not, but the fact that you do gives me anxiety.
I’ll unfollow if it’ll make you feel better. If this is about feeling intimidated I guarantee I’m not as impressive as you think I am; but if this is about feeling unsafe I’d sooner delete my blog than put anyone through that.
Devoured in one immense gulp this afternoon/evening/night/early morning. What resonated with me most, unsurprisingly, were the chapters on being in secondary school in the 90s in a Third World country as everything that matters seems to revolve around a distant, unreachable US.
More later, perhaps, when I am not falling asleep with my thumb on the screen.
In answer to tomewing (and in conversation with piratemoggy and aintgotnoladytronblues), I am reading no ongoing comics. For a while I was giving myself permission to buy one book at a local comics shop every other week, but I’ve had to stop that because my rent got hiked. All Most of the books I bought that way were translations of European comics published in the US within the last year. (Beautiful Darkness, Lost Cat, The Singles Theory, Recounting Streets. Oh, wait, and the proper second volume of Castle Waiting, which I’d promised myself ages ago, after the clusterfuck that was the first edition.)
I recently even stopped torrenting a weekly batch of Marvel and Image comics, because I’d trailed off reading them back in November and finally admitted I was probably never going to catch up. (It’s 2002 all over again, though back then it was all DC and Dark Horse. And I was spending actual money. God, remember when jobs used to pay actual money?)
I am still reading comics, though. Mostly older comics, mostly foreign comics, mostly #spanish comics in the 80s, as you’ve no doubt gathered from the state of this blog over the past several months. I’m trying to work through a bunch of dumbass curatorial stuff — dumbass because I have no doubt that I’m duplicating so much effort that others much more qualified and entrenched in comics culture have already put forth, and also because who cares literally no one — and that means I don’t have time to do much (or any) reading-for-pleasure rather than reading-for-pleasure-and-research. Which is annoying, because growing up I had a lot of disdain for people who didn’t know how to just experience leisure instead of tricking themselves into thinking of leisure activity as a kind of work; now that I am one of those people I don’t know how I would ever be able to stop, unless in an unlikely and completely unsatisfying narrative twist I become independently (or, hell, dependently) wealthy.
(Oh right, and every few weeks I go through my RSS feed and catch up on a dozen or so webcomics. The usual suspects; I am a wizened elder in internet terms — obviously, RSS — and haven’t added a non-Tumblr webcomic to my diet since 2008).
“Among the most important sources of happiness are: a sense of security; a good outlook; autonomy or control over our lives; good relationships; and skilled and meaningful activity. If you are unhappy, there’s a good chance that it’s for want of something on this list.”—
Which is part of the point, both of Martin’s crossover pop and of this whole travelogue: Latin identity is not — cannot be — tied to some travel-brochure stereotype of UNESCO World Heritage frozen-in-amber cultural practice. Latin people live in the present tense, and Latin pop is modern pop; whatever and whenever that is.
When the United States of wood and brick and riveted girders was swallowed, bit by unironic bit, by the United States of Formica® and Plexiglass™ and Styrofoam™ in the middle third of the last century, the barbaric yawp of the middle-aged soul yearned to be satisfied by consonant means. Old enough to remember Rachmaninoff as the very model of the modern touring music star, too working-class and immigrant to care about longhair ideals or highbrow cultural codes, too aware of what has gone before to be satisfied with the simulacra of urgency that imputedly fired their children. Play a tune we recognize; doll it up as you like, with all the color and razzle-dazzle and choking surfeit of a chain supermarket; perform, indeed, plastic surgery on it, stretching it out to unwieldy length and puffing it up with overwrought bombast and stuffing it full of twinkly orchestration; make it sound like everything else you do, an antiseptic perfection, because the comfort we take in the familiar is the only comfort left in a world so radically changed from the one we grew up in.
My favorite TV drama is Deadwood, which despite its roiling, perceptive, and widespread view of human nature does not care enough about certain kinds of humanity to treat Native Americans, for instance, as anything other than a mute, impersonal force of nature. David Milch’s grand vision of chronicling the intricacies of alliance and betrayal on which the birth of civilization is founded is fundamentally flawed because when confronted with the original betrayal on which all American “civilization” is founded, he blinks. The ruthless evil of Hearst is as nothing compared to the ruthless evil of every other character on the show even being there in the first place.
I would like to take this moment to deeply and sincerely thank the many Spanish-speaking comics obsessives who have made it their business to scan and pirate some seventy years’ worth of Spanish-language comics in both original serialized formats and in latter-day collected formats, and to wish that their Italian- and Dutch-speaking peers were anywhere near as comprehensive.