Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Hey Mickey, What's with all the Notes?

I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I’ve been writing so many “notes” in Facebook. What’s that, you hadn’t even noticed? Well …

(And why do they call them “notes”? I would consider them “blogs,” which, by the way, I think is a terrible name. It is a blend of the terms “web log,” not even a good acronym in the IBM manner like "ASCII." (There's a joke in there; do you get it?) It is true that the power of the web, allowing anyone to post content, is the source of the name "blog" as well as the object. In the old days, you had to go to a “vanity publisher” and pay to have your thoughts published — at least those whose thoughts were not deemed “commercial.”)

(And what’s with all the “quote marks”? (And should the question mark go inside the quote like periods and commas do? I have so many questions.)))

Well, getting back, why I publish “notes,” (and I think they would best fit the description of “articles,” although I’m not sure where these articles would be published), I do it to express myself. (No, not Madonna! Charlie Wright and the Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band:)

Express Yourself!
Express Yourself!
You don’t ever need help from nobody else. All you got to do now:
Express Yourself!

What ever you do, do it good. What ever you do, do it good. All right...
It’s not what you look like, when you’re doin’ what you’re doin’.
It’s what you’re doin’ when you’re doin’ what you look like you’re doin’!

Express Yourself! Express Yourself!
They’re doin ‘it on the moon, yeah... In the jungle too.
Everybody on the floor, now. Jumpin’ like a kangaroo.
So let the horns do the thing they do, yo...
Some people have everything, and other people don’t.
But everything don’t mean a thing if it ain’t the thing you want.

Express Yourself!
Express Yourself!
O, do it! O, do it. Do it to it.
Go on and do it.
Yo, do it. Give.
Express Yourself!
Express Yourself

Now that is poetry … Shakespearean even … Go Charlie … express yourself.

Yeah, "It’s not what you look like, when you’re doin’ what you’re doin’. It’s what you’re doin’ when you’re doin’ what you look like you’re doin’!" So, what do I look like I’m doin’? Are you lookin’ at me? Are you lookin’ at me? (And what happened to all the “g’s”?)

Sorry, I got distracted again. Short attention span, you know. Now where was I … (those are called ellipsis, and there are only supposed to be three … think about that people!)

I know you’ve all heard of “left brain, right brain” stuff. You know, the left brain is where the logical, sequential, rational, ratiocinative (now there’s a $20 word!!), analytical, objective, view things as parts, modular, thinking occurs

… and right brain is where the random, intuitive, holistic, synthesizing, perspicacious (OK, that’ll be $40 please), subjective, view things as whole, complete thinking occurs.

The left brain is rational and the right brain is creative. I’ve spent my life and my career working in the left brain side. Of course, that is a simplification, because math and engineering and invention is in there too, but we tend to think of artists and musicians and poets and novelist as being right brain.

I have a need to be creative. I suspect we all do. That is one reason I’m drawn to music and photography and creation of multimedia objects; especially arts where I can apply technology, science, and my knowledge and skills. AND THAT IS WHY I WRITE!! (Stop shouting!!!)

But I am also a teacher by inclination and — at times — trade. I love to explain things. Hell, let’s be honest, I just love to talk. A classroom was a perfect, captive audience, venue for me. But people kept interrupting me with questions, “could you hold that until I’ve finished talking, please.” Writing is perfect — no-one raising their hand or jumping in with their view on what I was so perfectly pontificating.

Oh how I love to write. In my best Dr. Seuss: “Oh the things I think and once they’re thunk they must be placed on the page, ker-plunk.”

I have so many things I would like to talk about. And so many interests I want to pursue.

— Isn’t the internet wonderful? Why if I was writing about the synchronicity between certain Beach Boys songs and Beatles songs and the impact of “Penny Lane,” I can quickly Google the release dates of “Pet Sounds” and “Good Vibrations” and contrast them with the release of “Rubber Soul,” the “Penny Lane” single, and “Sgt. Peppers.” Love that Google. (I first used a search engine called Alta Vista — it was nice — wonder what happened to it — a-hah — a “note.” — No, make that an “article,” and stop with all the dashes already.)

(Did anyone notice the single dash or "minus" vs. the double "daaash"? And thank you MS Word for providing the correct typographical and lexilogical symbol. "LEXILOGICAL" … oh now you're just making up words. What a pompous ass! or is it: What! A pompous ass? Did you know "pompis" is Spanish for "backside"? A pompis ass … hmmmm … redundant.)

((And what about all these parentheses … are they just parenthetical, or are they key to understanding the thinking?) (((STOP interrupting me !!))) … or should it be {[(STOP interrupting me !!)]} … now I like that … so mathematical.

Sorry about that; where was I; oh yes; now I have a blog, and I know none of you even know about it. Maybe some? Sum? Zero sum?? Alas, I have no “followers.” [Steve has “followers.” Why can’t I get any “followers?”] (See http://mickey-cheatham.blogspot.com/ — see: no followers!)

But, on Facebook, I have “followers” … err … “friends.” But, again, alas, I’ve seemed to have lost them too. I used to post notes on FB and get comments and “likes.” But, I overdid it, I know that’s the problem, the last few notes just disappeared into the ether (proven to not exist by the Michelson Morley experiment, 1887, (thanks Google) which ultimately led to Einstein’s special theory of relativity — a-hah, another note.)

So, even though I am just talking to myself — and no interruptions please — that is why I write “notes” or, as I prefer, “articles.”

No, they won’t stop me until they take this keyboard from my cold dead fingers. I have a first amendment right you know, I can say what I please and political correctness be damned (oops, sorry about that kids, better flag this as mature audience only), I’ll say what I want, no matter how illogical and poorly informed, ‘cause I got the right. Scene: crowded theater, actor turns to audience, “Fire!,” “Fire!” … "not ‘till you see the whites of their eyes." "OK pilgrim.")

{Do you like jazz? Do you know what “scat singing” is? How about “stream of consciousness”? Well, this is “stream of unconsciousness.” How do you like it so far?}

And so ends a note without a single smiley face. Isn’t life grand? What’s that? A piano # (Oh my God, is that a question? A statement. An exclamation! An explanation!?! What punctuation do I use? I can’t take this any longer!)

Coda

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