Be my fucking Facebook friend!

Admittedly, I felt kinda insipid setting up this blog. In many ways, the act felt like that of a sexually frustrated schoolgirl, scribbling notes about boys who ‘look at me’ in class. Yes, this a diary for adults. A diary for voyeurs and exhibitionists. But it serves a splendid purpose, to raise consciousness, to disseminate ideas, and to vent…

You see, I underwent these feelings before, when I set up a Facebook profile (let’s forget about my long defunct spammified Myspace account). Initially, it seemed a faddish, sycophantic, time-wasting thing to do…but after coercision from friends, and some rationalising, I realised it’s okay to suck cock every so often. Hey! I might even enjoy it!

And enjoy it I have, to some extent. Happily sucking away, I’ve managed to get back in touch with old friends and enemies, and to even meet some intriguing new people. And isn’t this the point? To network and widen the circle of contacts?!

So I thought…but imagine my horror when I attempt to ‘reach out’ to some shithead, by all appearances an ally in skepticism and atheism, who responds with…

“Excuse me, but do I know you at all?!”

I was suddenly taken aback by my own hastiness and impertinence! How dare I contact a supposedly like-minded individual in a public forum, without a formal letter of introduction, an appointment, a stern moral purpose and a tasty, sweet-baked item?!

After all, this gentleman is selective. He only has 260 other ‘friends’…

Worst of all…I do know him…

If there must be a point, an American-sitcom-style moral, it is this: Do not set up profiles on Myspace, Facebook, LinkenIn, ad infinitum, unless you can cope with the basic premise that people will contact you!

Yes! Friends, relatives, parole officers and ex-boyfriends…but also strangers, loons, creeps and nutjobs, and the odd decent chap; people who want to be connected to you in some way, probably erroneously because they don’t know that your photo is a good unlikeness of you.

Try being more approachable…

Most of all, cut out the pretentiousness, the preciousness, the elitism, the fear, the reticence and the misguided sense of superiority. Remember, Natural Selection let you slip through…

Aura(ful) Paintings

Today I was contacted by the Daily Gazette, New York, to comment on the performance art of Leiah Bowden, “lifelong meditator, intuitive artist and visionary”.

Leiah claims to see and paint people’s auras, “Energy Portraits”, meanwhile providing trance readings to her subjects.

I remarked that her paintings are about as paranormal as Picasso’s, but much less proficient:

“Leiah claims that her paintings are paranormal, and that she is in “Heaven, an altered state of consciousness” when she paints. It appears she’s confusing skill and imagination with paranormal ability. In a literal sense, her artworks are about as supernatural or mystical as anyone’s painting of a landscape or bowl of fruit, and based on ideas, rather than paranormal messages. Trance readings, like these “Energy Portraits”, are products of the artist’s imagination and creativity, with no basis in the paranormal.”

Claiming paranormal abilities allows faux artists to get away with producing really shitty ‘artworks’, affording them inflated sentimental value, and charging gallery prices…

Yep…looks like the crap ’Granny’s in Heaven now’ artwork that you finger painted in Kindergarten that Mommy proudly displayed on the fridge…