Next to this Fine Literary Outlet’s tab up top my browser, there are open tabs to Google searches for “quinoa” and “swine.”
These exist as the ripple effects of failed or unsent Twitter jokes. Before I send anything into the social media stratosphere — moronic joke or otherwise — I look into its historical context, alternative meaning(s), news/humor value, proper spelling, etc. Jay Rosen, NYU journalism professor, has always written on his stellar blog that you should consider every social media post to be something you’re publishing, something that will exist interminably and before a critical audience. I manicure my Facebook page, Twitter account (less so, sometimes) and my blog as delicately as I do my awe-inspiring, local alt-weekly feature stories. (You should read those every day, and tell your friends.)
I bring this up, briefly, only to tip my cap toward the nigh thousands of social media posts that I’ve typed up and ruminated over and, chuckling very loudly to myself, patted my own back over — and then deleted. Ah! To think of all the ships that never sailed!
(The “swine” joke was good — in response to someone considering how easy it would be to wrestle and overpower Ted Cruz, naturally. I just couldn’t get the phrasing down pat.)
I think of Wilco now, and their song “The Late Greats.” “The best bands will never get signed,” etc. Some of my best stuff was tossed in the technological furnace and cast into the Land Where No One Remembers Anything. It’s Barriesque and beautiful.
Sandy 