Insults, Snapshots, Etymology Of Current Scenewash Architecture

16 Oct

lily-artwatcher

Lily Artwatcher

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Originally published on October 16, 1997

The following letter was composed in response to a query from an old friend Steve Taylor, then in Philadelphia.

"Glad to see you are starting to populate the Scenewash. Is that name from one of your print works or did you create it for the online medium? You know I'm always a sucker for an etymological tale..."

No, sir. That gem was the product of a fresh brainstorm ripping across this fertile valley now my home while I was working on a Lily Artwatcher subsection dealing with local ontological events, hyperpersonalized and literally screaming fotographic intrigue a few months before I cleavaged iMote to separate the so-called storefront from the creative victories I feel as a writer and a conduit for whatever comes next. I'd created a banner page, and not much else. As I recall a snapshot of Sue is highlighted in a collage with moderate success. However I liked the multiple entendres of the Scenewash project so much (epistemologically, general and local cleansing of the scene) that it grew whiskers, a gut of grand proportions and into the ripening domain you are only beginning to fathom.

It will also remain a subsection, as originally intended, within the SWORG/LILY section, but you'll just have to wait until it's fleshed online sometime next year undoubtedly to know any more about that than I do right now. It's presently only a gleam in the sacrificial iMotedotcom and a few building blocks of infrastructure waiting attention. Since I have Cafespirit, and a bevy of other themes mapped out in LILY, I quite have forgotten what I intended with the original Scenewash quarter.

The industrious ones are border rats in a life and death frenzy to land a job. The lazy are generally stupid and vacant of morals and always eager to capitulate to the swirl and swill to maintain that laziness. In this way they match the filthy rich jet setters the revolutionaries supposedly want to overthrow. Power to the Bourgeoise!
Yesterday was somewhat of a creative breakthrough. You will like what you see. The work is still offline as I need to clean up some peripheral files before uploading, but I hope to have a lot more mapped in for your personal viewing by the end of this weekend. My computer is currently tied up with a 10MB download of a new site creation beta from Macromedia called Dreamweaver.

At my modem speed projected download time is over an hour and a half. I've crashed in the past trying to download and send mail at the same time, so this note will have to wait until the software is on disk, but man, a while back I downloaded MIE v3.1 in an uninterupted streaming session only for it to be corrupted from the very first click. Lost all that time. These huge downloads are not fun, or apparently very reliable.

Well, it took almost to the minute two hours to download. It expanded cleanly, but I'll wait until later to install and nose around. Of course I'll let you know what I think about it. How is Net Objects Fusion treating you? Or haven't you been studying it, like a good webmaster should in the best of worlds . . .

Bracken says, "Power to the Lazy Worker!" Can you believe he really thinks the world will improve if we all became lazy on the job? Next time he goes under the knife of a surgeon (knee work last year), he should slip the nurse one of his pamphlets, and have the medical staff, "go lazy on him." Then he should move to Mexico.

I understand siesta lazy is a way of life for millions down there (just another white man myth not worth its heat I suppose). The industrious ones are border rats in a life and death frenzy to land a job. The lazy are generally stupid and vacant of morals and always eager to capitulate to the swirl and swill to maintain that laziness. In this way they match the filthy rich jet setters the revolutionaries supposedly want to overthrow. Power to the Bourgeoise!

© 1997 - 2017, Gabriel Thy. All rights reserved.

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"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""


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