Yesteday I was weirdly social. I met wiseacress, who is 5'9" of unbelievable red-headed cuteness, and we had coffee and lunch and talked about writing, fiction, poetry, literary manifestos, Bill Murray, Canada, shirtless women, British high tea, and other things I forget.
After that I went to a local fan bash for the first time in months--a few people mentioned my newest tattoo, which I got in November, and I really can't accept that it had been that long. I feel fairly sure that I've been to one or two bashes since then, and was perhaps wearing long sleeves. But still. I had clearly been gone for a time, and it was great to catch up with people offline--sherrold (who I actually do see more often), merryish, movies_michelle, feochadn, gwyn_r, wickedwords, and other friends who have resisted the lure of the LJ.
I feel a bit socially refreshed today. And in need of doughnuts--pancakes, waffles, bacon?--and more sleep, not necessarily in that order.
I spent some time just now looking for a poetry rec. I have plenty to choose from, but some seem to exist only in print and not online (and I am too lazy to type them out), while others thwart me entirely. I've gone through several books searching for an elusive
If you call all things memes--writers, poems, books, movies--it seems like the robustness of a thing, its survival factor, can be measured well by the Internet, by how well it's represented. But maybe I shouldn't worry--the net is young and it's a very transient current, after all. Not many people are looking ahead to its function as a long-term archive. Maybe the poems not found here are safe in libraries and in classrooms and will survive and propagate in some form, in print anthologies, etc etc.
Still. The net is vastly underutilized, given what it is and what it could be. It's so fucking hit-or-miss, and it's mostly miss. You should not have to know, by name, what you're looking for in order to find it, you know? You should be able to say, "I want to find a selection of great poems, representative of our best contemporary efforts," and then make your way too them without having to wade through thickets of irrelevant distractions, prose and porn sites.
Somehow while writing this I seem to have ripped through half a bag of Milanos. For breakfast. I think I will go now.