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17 July 2013

New music for the content farm

Recently someone reminded me that I’m the owner of this here blog. What’s the saying: Use it or lose it? Well, actually, I don’t think there’s any chance that personal content farms will do anything but proliferate over the course of our current century, but maybe that saying is actually a metaphor?

So without further adieu, here are four songs I’ve enjoyed over the past few months, during which I have been an unprolific blogger:

Alastair Galbraith: “Everybody’s Got Pain”

Tom Rapp cover viz this

Radiohead: “Creep” (Live at the MTV Beach House)

Feist: “Graveyard”

I actually think “The Bad In Each Other” from the same album is a better song. And I’ve gone totally in the tank for the album in whole. But wow, “Graveyard,” great viddy!

AroarA: “#6”

Saw them playing as part of a band with Feist in Toronto. A new thing. A new band? It’s called Hydra. No one seems to know if it will come to anything. I do have a bit of advice for AroarA though: “Terrible band name dudes. Change it.” (Sorry that I shared that in public AroarA dudes! Take that with a grain of salt though. I’ve been wrong before.)

Posted by Alec Hanley Bemis  

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26 March 2012

The internet wasteland & a museum to ephemeral feeling


The internet deserves to be treated like a wasteland. I am not referring to T. S. Eliot, mind you — more like Cormac McCarthy‘s The Road, Denis Johnson’s Fiskadoro or, fuck it, Mad Max.

Hell, maybe the internet deserves an even madder Max.

We live in a world which (if the consistently apocalyptic tone of most media reports are to be believed) is quite redolent of Mel Gibson’s breakthrough film — out-of-gas, out-of-hope, ready to abandon our fading settlement upon rumor of a brighter kingdom just past the next ridge. The internet is a perfectly ephemeral medium for this kind of world. By contrast, I remember when I fancied myself more of a proper writer, rather than someone merely capable of writing well & conveying stories and feelings. I treated each word on a screen like letters etched on marble tablets — each one carefully placed, every publication a monument to some kind of pretension. On the ‘net, however, I’ve come to realize words are more like water or, better, something sweeter. Nowadays, I see each new web platform as a honeycomb to be sucked dry until there’s only a husk to leave behind.

And so I’d like to point you toward my latest internet property alechanleybemis.tumblr.com where I’ve gone practically wordless, choosing instead to focus on concerts & photographs. I like to think I’ve opened an online museum to ephemeral feelings, a museum that may close without warning, at any time. But one that’s devoted to featuring some of the more elevating & tipsy-making aspects of our world. Contrast Mad Max with the wild dancing that happens on the edges of darkness.

Two shining examples of the exhibits on display after the jump. Follow me or don’t. If you agree with Drake it’s probably not for you; but if you understand David Foster Wallace’s wiser words, it will make sense to you.

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