(no subject)
One of the things about the existential economy of the internet is that the currency is not only intangible, it's redistribution of wealth is fairly arbitrary.
Only if you are really subscriber-rich (think Boing-Boing, a niche blogger like Miss Snark was) is your referral sure to make a difference to the referee.
There's always the Black Swan affect, though, like with the Numa Numa video on YouTube that became a phenomenon. And so we strive...
I told you I wanted to image blog, right?
Well, for starters, here's something that's bugging me:
This is a new permanent fixture of our keyboard. A mic-ing contraption that protrudes over the ivories I rarely deign to tickle and now will have more reason to neglect. Except I'm appalled at how slow my fingers have gotten (a problem that doesn't translate in your favor to a slow typing reflex) and have determined to work on a Ludovico Einaudi song (Le Onde) until I don't feel like a waste of opposable thumbs.
From a distance, this bent-pipe and foam-padded contraption has a certain urban grunge appeal, I'll admit. When trying to play an instrumental piece, though, it has a certain suicide-pact appeal...
Now I must go back and link the life out my text for the sake of the people...
Oh. Don't forget Dr. Horrible! Here's the First Act, up for a limited time only!
Only if you are really subscriber-rich (think Boing-Boing, a niche blogger like Miss Snark was) is your referral sure to make a difference to the referee.
There's always the Black Swan affect, though, like with the Numa Numa video on YouTube that became a phenomenon. And so we strive...
I told you I wanted to image blog, right?
Well, for starters, here's something that's bugging me:
This is a new permanent fixture of our keyboard. A mic-ing contraption that protrudes over the ivories I rarely deign to tickle and now will have more reason to neglect. Except I'm appalled at how slow my fingers have gotten (a problem that doesn't translate in your favor to a slow typing reflex) and have determined to work on a Ludovico Einaudi song (Le Onde) until I don't feel like a waste of opposable thumbs.
From a distance, this bent-pipe and foam-padded contraption has a certain urban grunge appeal, I'll admit. When trying to play an instrumental piece, though, it has a certain suicide-pact appeal...
Now I must go back and link the life out my text for the sake of the people...
Oh. Don't forget Dr. Horrible! Here's the First Act, up for a limited time only!