World Wide Web revealed to be devoid of content

It's significant that, when I asked these three questions a little over a week ago, though an interesting discussion ensued, I got only ONE answer to any of these, someone recommending by email that I check Glenn Greenwald's column in Salon.

(1) Where does one go for ORGAFUN these days?

(2) Where does one go for ideas and smart arguments?

(3) Where does one go for people taking stock of themselves and their world?

Also no response to the more specific question: "Is there much interesting music criticism these days?"

A potential answer seems to be, "Yes, on blogs, about The-Dream." E.g., this, by Matt Cibula; thanks to Dave for bringing it to my attention:

Okay "Fancy" is basically a symphony and it MURDALIZES everything else. Forget the lyrics for a second — this thing is a fantasia, seemingly no structure to it except the floaty chords that seem to keep rising and rising and then drop off so they can rise and rise again, 59-piece orchestra patch with shouts as percussion and florid piano and harmonica from nowhere, handclap things but no real beat whatsoever until the last 15 seconds. Then you throw the words in — she likes nice fancy things because she grew up poor, she deserves nice fancy things because she's beautiful, and she's lucky because he is rich and likes to buy her nice fancy things, and (HERE IS THE KICKER) HE IS FANCY TOO ZOMG!!11! The whole thing is one extended moment, it exists in its own universe, it is tied strategically to Kanye and other neo-semi-anti-pro-materialist screeds but also tellingly to Prince's "Condition of the Heart". Isn't this just a girl in Paris who makes funny faces just like Clara Bow?

(Also, the excellent Edd Hurt is back to posting on Rolling Country.)

Let the right be wrong?

Adam Lambert's "Ring Of Fire" on American Idol was indescribably terrible, but still was one of only two performances this week worth hearing more than twice. The guy has ideas, even if putting them together produces a misshapen mess. The other was Kris Allen doing "Make You Feel My Love" with a light step, turning it into gentle slush and ignoring the lyrics' buried aggression, which is fine with me.

( Some blah blah blah about the rest )

If you haven't heard the original "Independence Day," you must.

In plain view, hidden

Glenn Greenwald in today's Salon:

John Cole confesses to what he acknowledges is a "Get off my lawn" sentiment in questioning the purpose, value and appeal of Twitter. At the risk of appearing as crotchety as he does, I share that bewilderment. About Twitter messages, John says "they all read like cell phone text messages between 12 year olds," and indeed, the only purpose I can discern is that it provides a format for expressing thoughts that are too inconsequential to merit a stand-alone article or post. For precisely that reason, it is unsurprising that Twitter has become a huge hit among our media stars, for whom triviality is a guiding principle.

Well, that final sentence is gratuitous snark. In any event, I can't speak for Twitter, since I'm not signed up, but Greenwald gives a potential answer to his own question: "it provides a format for expressing thoughts that are too inconsequential to merit a stand-alone article or post." So, being apparently inconsequential, the heat is off. They don't count. So they don't need scrutiny, and therefore they escape censorship by the serious mind (which is not engaged). Hence Twitter can be an area for free play, a field for the forbidden - not a field for the Seriously Recognized Transgression, but for that which is suppressed in virtue of its being beneath notice. Hence Twitter can be a public Unconscious, one that's in plain sight, like pop music before the Beatles. (Not to say that Twitter is like this - as I say, I don't know - but that it has the capacity. But I still don't think I have time for another distraction.)

h/t Tal Rosenberg