Cocoon of concentration today. Doing things. Remembering my mantra for not wanting to go back to corporate: I didn’t want to Direct. I wanted to Do. It’s not often you get to Do anything in corporate — anything meaningful, at least. Depending, of course, on what one defines as meaningful. I remember talking about ways to edit stories with corrections. This was in 1995, and the possibility of making magazine articles living, malleable things was new and disconcerting to the print establishment. Today I think of the simple “Correction appended” type of notices seen in NY Times and other online publications and think wow, if that is not as revolutionary as the printing press then it deserves some respect as a simple, inevitable innovation that fundamentally distinguisehes new media from old. Obviously the “Corrections” section of any magazine or newspaper was a staple of most publications, but even there space limitations forced the corrections published
to be chosen with circumspect decision-making.
I am not suggesting that I had a significant part in this little sleight of hand editorial flourish. But having been in sometimes heated and indignant discussions about it and other integrated editorial follow-through techniques common today I just took note today of it and the many things that I do not yet take for granted in this living, interactive space.
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For all that, though, my days and weeks of work-related exertions are pretty much directionless. Good ideas but no concentration or timespace capacity to execute.
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I saw no real sunlight today, except for what trailed in through the windows.
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Devious minds elicit projectiles of bullish fabrication.
Swallowing the chocolate pasture.
Losing control of grassy deposits.
Flowers of hushed antidotes.
Drink litigation straight from the courthouse of God.
Foursquare temperments of insatiable attraction.
I promise to embellish that unfortunate chuckle with needles.
