Sometimes your computer runs so criminally slow, for No Known Reason, that it forces the invention of new curse words. That is happening here now.
Is this, mayhaps, a Monday? Thought so.
When my daughter, the award-winning deviant, was young, I cursed in bursts of fake words approximating foreign languages, primarily German and Chinese, so as not to sear her ears. Now that she has grown and gone, I have reverted to cursing in English, and these days pretty much belong in the Navy.
So I am reading this blurt in Slate that claims that blogs, “once the alluring ingénue of the Internet scene,” have now degenerated into a sort of odoriferous mumbling bag lady, whom everybody avoids. Old people, when they’re not in the hospital, apparently still shuffle their walkers into blogs, in order “to share dieting stories, rant about politics, and celebrate their love of cats.” But people in their 20s now live wholly on Facebook, while those younger are beginning to complain that even Twitter “has too many words.” And so they flock to Tumblr, which is mostly pictures: “This is just images. Some people write some phrases or some quotes, but that’s it.”
I already knew this, whining about it during the course of a generalized jihad against the limitations of language here, posted just about this time last year. And really, who am I to complain, if that Alphabet Vs. The Goddess dude is right? And the written word really is just a patriarchal plot that has deformed all of our brains? And the Youngbloods truly are Saving Us, by abandoning readin’ and writin’, for pictures? As I observed in my anniversary post here, the wordpress stats show that a lot of folks sure do seem to ride into this place on the pictures. So, in the meantime, since nobody is reading anyway, why can’t I post to this blog complaints about how my computer is Making Life Difficult as I try to post to this blog?
So is Gumby a fit subject for a blog? Or he is more aptly approached on Facebook? While Twitting? Or Tumbling?
I connect Gumby with Mondays and the invention of new curse words prompted by computer constipation because of my brother. He was once joined to a lover who took a peculiar and actually quite violent dislike to various people, figments, and foods that she considered Totally Wrong. These included Mr. Magoo, Jimmy Stewart, and parsnips. The mere mention of Gumby sent her racing to the knife drawer, and if she had been the Khmer Rouge, anyone even remotely associated with a Gumby would have been sent to a Camp.
In honor of her obsession, my brother transformed the lyrics of the song “Monday, Monday” to “Gumby, Gumby.” His new and improved version contained such wisdompearls as:
can’t trust that clay
And so is explained, sort of, why I am posting a German-language version of “Monday, Monday” below.
You may now return to your regularly scheduled twits and tumbles.