I’ve been on Twitter for a long time. A very long time. In fact, I was introduced to it as a way for a bunch of friends to let one another know what bar they were about to go to. It seems to have strayed from that vision a bit.

I have not yet decided to leave it, although I’m starting to check in at Mastodon. Here’s what I use it for, in no particular order, and not without embarrassment:

• Quick check on breaking news. It’s by no means comprehensive, and what trends is by no means always important. But I find some of it worth a click even as a distraction.
• Quick commentary on issues of the day by people I follow because they’re good at that.
• Issues worth knowing about raised by strangers who know about them.
• Keeping up with fields I’m interested in by following people who I don’t know, as well as some I do.
• Engaging with people I otherwise wouldn’t have kept up with.
• There are people I know just barely in real life who I feel quite close to after many years on Twitter together. 
• Engaging with a low bar of social inhibition/anxiety with people I don’t know, sometimes leading to friendships. 
• An outlet for my stray thoughts and, well, jokes.
• A medium by which I can publicize stuff I write.
• A number I can cite to publishers as if people automatically read the stuff of mine I’m publicizing on Twitter.
• The Twitter I’m on is often very funny.

Switching social platforms is hard.

2 Comments »

I just stumbled across an open access archive of 146 issues of The Realist, Paul Krassner’s 1960s political and cultural satire magazine. Thanks, JSTOR!

I read it when I was in high school and college in the 1960s and early 1970s. It was far more savage than MAD magazine, more explicit in topics and language, and went after riskier targets. The epitome of this was his parody of William Manchester’s book about the JFK assassination, The Death of a President — a parody that ended with an act by LBJ on the plane carrying Kennedy’s body to Washington that is still so crude and shocking that I’d have to use euphemisms to describe it. Instead, here’s an article that puts it in context.

That was Krassner pulping a topic with a meat hammer, but The Realist was often more clever and addressed very real issues: craven politicians, the abuse of power, the institutionalized oppression of the vulnerable, the US as a warmonger, the heartlessness of capitalism. To be clear, the LBJ article also addressed real issues: The growing JFK hagiography, LBJ’s lust for power and crude lack of empathy, the masculine all-consuming and sexualized power dynamic, the media’s genteel cowardice, etc. It just did so atypically in the form of a short story

Krassner was one of the co-founders of the Yippies. He published The Realist until 2001. He died in 2019.

Be the first to comment »

My mother, Sherry, died 29 years ago today. On this birthday she would have been 100.

Here’s what my sister-in-law, Meredith Sue Willis (“Sue” to us) posted on Facebook about her.

This would have been the 100th birthday of my mother-in-law, Sherry Weinberger, Andy and Ellen and David’s mom. She was a magnificent lady, a left-liberal activist, a folk guitarist and guitar teacher, a gifted friend. She used to put out a meal for twenty on the lake house porch, wearing hoop earrings a lavender and blue outfit, drinking a margarita and smoking a cigarette. Then the party started. She was what they call a balabusta in the home and an organizer in the neighborhood. I, like dozens of others, was fascinated and lifted up by her generosity and vivacity.  

Sue captures much of my mother in those few details. You won’t be surprised to hear that Sue is a wonderful and respected novelist.

I am loathe to say more because I won’t get it right, but I’m going to anyway.

She was a wonderful mother who sacrificed much to devote herself to her children. That includes giving up on a career she had just begun at The New Republic, which was at that time the intellectual center of the Left.

She was so, so social, hospitable to all, making parties but never pushing her way to the center of them. She was happy to talk, and laugh, and wouldn’t say no to a little flirting. So many people thought they were very special to her. And they were.

And when we said she was a balabusta, I don’t think we meant it in its actual Yiddish meaning (“homemaker”) which I just learned, but rather as a ball-buster: She didn’t take shit from anyone, especially from men. In the early 1950s (I was born in 1950) she was well-aware of the inequality among the sexes (as we used to say), including in her own marriage.

As Sue notes, she taught folk guitar, and she did so in the 1950s before the big Folk Music Boom in the early ’60s when Bob Dylan and Peter, Paul, and Mary were stars, and there were actual folk singing shows like Hullabaloo and Shindig! on the national networks.

She cared about folk music because it gave literal voice to Black people and to all the workers whose lives are so hard that we avert our eyes. She cared about folk music because it brought the world’s cultures into our community and household. She cared about folk music because it gave her work while being a “homemaker” and mother. She cared about folk music because it gave her a little financial independence from Dad. She cared about folk music because she was a proficient guitarist with a beautiful voice.

She cared about many other things and people, but always with the same mix of personal connection, love of differences, and a commitment to a world in which there is more music, more love, and more justice.

PS: She hated Donald Trump from the moment he got the public’s eye. I wouldn’t know how to break it to her that the worst person in America actually became president.

3 Comments »

Meredith Sue Willis, the noted novelist and my sister-in-law, has made six of her novels available for free, as e-books, until April 20th.

Sue, as her family members call her, brings characters to life in just a few words. Her novels tend to be centered on places that she brings to life as well – small-town West Virginia, rural Massachusetts, even a cruise ship before that phrase conjured a plague ward.

Give ’em a try. And you well might like her free literary newsletter as well.

1 Comment »

Blogrolls were early social networks.

Y’see, back in the old days of the Blogosphere, there wasn’t any Facebook or Twitter. Your blog was your presence on the Web. And because people are relational, not independent autonomous agents, many bloggers posted a list of the other blogs they read and sometimes responded to. It was a way of building a networked community.

Blogrolls were good, generous things. I’ve been intending for a long time to post one on this blog again. As a first step, I went to the WayBack Machine, AKA the blessed Internet Archive, and looked up 2004 editions of this blog. I randomly chose the April 1 edition and copied its blogroll. (WARNING: Put on protective eyewear before viewing that old edition.)

Here is the blogroll, unaltered. Many of the links work because the Internet Archive, blessed be its name, automatically inserts links back into the Archive. I suspect that precious few of these blogs are still around. But they were magnificent in their day.

Akma
Jennifer Balderama
Hank Blakely
Blog Sisters
Tim Bray
Dan Bricklin
BurningBird
Marc Canter
Cory Doctorow
Dean Campaign
Betsy Devine
Paul English
Ernie the Attorney
Glenn Fleishman
Dan Gillmor
Gonzo Engaged
Mike Golby
Seth Gordon
Steve Himmer
Denise Howell
David Isenberg
Joi Ito
Jeff Jarvis
Steve Johnson
Kalilily
Pete Kaminski
Jason Kottke
Eliz. Lawley
Adina Levin
Lawrence Lessig
Living Code
Chris Locke
Chris Lydon
Joe Mahoney
Marek
Kevin Marks
Tom Matrullo
Ross Mayfield
Scott McCloud
Megnut
Peter Merholz
Misbehaving
Eric Norlin
The Obvious
O’Connor Clarke
Frank Paynter
Jonathan Peterson
Chris Pirillo
Reed/Frankston
Howard Rheingold
Dave Rogers
Jay Rosen
Scott Rosenberg
Steve Saltire
Doc Searls
Jeneane Sessum
Clay Shirky
Social Software
Halley Suitt
Gary Turner
Mary Lu W.
Dave Winer
Amy Wohl
Gary Wolf
Steve Yost

Free Newsletters I read
David Isenberg
Lockergnome
RageBoy’s EGR
Slate’s Today’s Papers
Steve Talbott
Ted Stout’s RF
Dylan Tweney
Amy Wohl
World Wide Words
JOHO (mine) )