Someday These Bones Will Be Worth Saving

by John Dedeke

My lady friend Lola is internet famous. 

My lady friend Lola is internet famous. 


These Are Your Parents →


Over the last few weeks I’ve been a little addicted to Chuck Palahniuk’s feed, which he’s using to relentlessly answer questions from seemingly anyone who contacts him.
His frequent references to book tours and readings reminded me that I once saw him read live at the Mad Art Gallery, which in turn inspired me to go digging for this shot of my friend Amanda and me with Chuck (and his blow-up doll). This is actually the first photo in which I was tagged on Facebook, a largely irrelevant fact that for some reason still amuses me. 

Over the last few weeks I’ve been a little addicted to Chuck Palahniuk’s feed, which he’s using to relentlessly answer questions from seemingly anyone who contacts him.

His frequent references to book tours and readings reminded me that I once saw him read live at the Mad Art Gallery, which in turn inspired me to go digging for this shot of my friend Amanda and me with Chuck (and his blow-up doll). This is actually the first photo in which I was tagged on Facebook, a largely irrelevant fact that for some reason still amuses me. 


Welcome to Dataland: Design fiction at the most magical place on earth

Disney properties have more often been scorned as “false” than celebrated as tentative. But Walt Disney always saw them as provisional and speculative, even if his successors haven’t always followed his lead. Endeavors like Tomorrowland and EPCOT and their ilk are undoubtedly tactical, sponsored, corporate speech. But they are not just cynical commercial products. Like World’s Fairs, Disney parks are spaces where people negotiate with alternate experiences. They are mass-market examples of what the science-fiction writer Bruce Sterling has called design fiction, a kind of design that “tells worlds rather than stories.”

One of the most beneficial and timely reads of the year, at least for me. As far as I know this is the first piece to look at this Disney World MagicBand thing in the context of how the resort was originally envisioned. 
While I’ve been hesitant to get too invested in any perspective on the MyMagic+ initiative until I’ve had a chance to use it myself, I’ve certainly read a good amount of praise and criticism (more the latter than the former) — mostly split between shades of “this makes planning so easy and efficient” and “I don’t want to plan every minute of my vacation and/or be tracked by a computer 24/7.” Both of which are legit. 
But far more interesting to me is how, as Ian Bogost points out here, through MM+ Walt Disney World is — finally? — testing “future” technology in a dynamic, everyday living environment, as the original EPCOT city concept was intended to. The planned execution may have differed, but the scale and uniqueness of the initiative are essentially the same. No one is doing what Disney is doing with MM+. It is a “living blueprint of the future,” whether we like the implications of that future or not. 
Thanks to Foxxy for the link.

Welcome to Dataland: Design fiction at the most magical place on earth

Disney properties have more often been scorned as “false” than celebrated as tentative. But Walt Disney always saw them as provisional and speculative, even if his successors haven’t always followed his lead. Endeavors like Tomorrowland and EPCOT and their ilk are undoubtedly tactical, sponsored, corporate speech. But they are not just cynical commercial products. Like World’s Fairs, Disney parks are spaces where people negotiate with alternate experiences. They are mass-market examples of what the science-fiction writer Bruce Sterling has called design fiction, a kind of design that “tells worlds rather than stories.”

One of the most beneficial and timely reads of the year, at least for me. As far as I know this is the first piece to look at this Disney World MagicBand thing in the context of how the resort was originally envisioned. 

While I’ve been hesitant to get too invested in any perspective on the MyMagic+ initiative until I’ve had a chance to use it myself, I’ve certainly read a good amount of praise and criticism (more the latter than the former) — mostly split between shades of “this makes planning so easy and efficient” and “I don’t want to plan every minute of my vacation and/or be tracked by a computer 24/7.” Both of which are legit. 

But far more interesting to me is how, as Ian Bogost points out here, through MM+ Walt Disney World is — finally? — testing “future” technology in a dynamic, everyday living environment, as the original EPCOT city concept was intended to. The planned execution may have differed, but the scale and uniqueness of the initiative are essentially the same. No one is doing what Disney is doing with MM+. It is a “living blueprint of the future,” whether we like the implications of that future or not. 

Thanks to Foxxy for the link.



Somewhere between the climb and collapsewe sit around a fireand talk about growing up and growing old,about marriage and divorceand grandparents who’ll never understand,about skipping school but attending school reunions,about work, and the people who make it work,and how our parents always made it work. We talk about these things and we don’t talk about other things,but mostly we talk about Joy Division and the Clash.

Somewhere between the climb and collapse
we sit around a fire
and talk about growing up and growing old,
about marriage and divorce
and grandparents who’ll never understand,
about skipping school 
but attending school reunions,
about work, 
and the people who make it work,
and how our parents always made it work. 
We talk about these things 
and we don’t talk about other things,
but mostly we talk about Joy Division and the Clash.



I guess when that thing means something to you, you want to put it someplace meaningful. Maybe not over your garage, but on your bumper instead, or your wall, or your back. Maybe you have it on your checks, if you still have checks. Maybe you pin it to your lapel, if you still wear a lapel. Maybe someday somebody chisels it into your tombstone or sticks it in the ground above you because they know it means something to you. Maybe, but I can’t say for sure. I don’t know what it’s like for it to mean something to you, because I don’t know if it’s ever meant anything to me.  
I used to study it, swear to it. I used to hold it, fold it, wave it. I’ve seen it worn, and torn, and burned. I’ve seen people fight and cry and die over it. I’ve seen people fall in love under it, but I’ve never understood it. 
So I just look at it. I look at it, unsure what it could possibly mean to someone but glad that it means something, and hoping that I do, too. 


I guess when that thing means something to you, you want to put it someplace meaningful. Maybe not over your garage, but on your bumper instead, or your wall, or your back. Maybe you have it on your checks, if you still have checks. Maybe you pin it to your lapel, if you still wear a lapel. Maybe someday somebody chisels it into your tombstone or sticks it in the ground above you because they know it means something to you. Maybe, but I can’t say for sure. I don’t know what it’s like for it to mean something to you, because I don’t know if it’s ever meant anything to me.  

I used to study it, swear to it. I used to hold it, fold it, wave it. I’ve seen it worn, and torn, and burned. I’ve seen people fight and cry and die over it. I’ve seen people fall in love under it, but I’ve never understood it. 

So I just look at it. I look at it, unsure what it could possibly mean to someone but glad that it means something, and hoping that I do, too. 


Made my first-ever visit to The Muny last night, including a trip backstage where I swooned over a foamcore cemetery.  



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