Though sometimes, I feel like a motherless child, and randomness feels like the order of the times, heaps of new media bring fresh perspectives. Constantly, I find myself looking down, not because I am afraid to give eye contact, but submissively, as in a slave to my iPhone and Mac. Sometimes I feel like I need a chiropractor to repair the damage done by all the looking down, a downward spiral so to speak, a bad habit, a sign of the times.
The news is not just depressing, but bad. Finally, someone got punished for the disastrous Iraq War. NBC news anchor Brian Williams caused it.
The fashion at the Grammy Awards makes Star Trek reruns look good.
Ever nasty Madonna dresses like Cruella de Vil as a waitress in a Matador-themed restaurant – a Medieval Times spinoff.
Prince sports an outfit which looks like Gumby or Sponge Bob in a dishrag nightgown combo.
Sam Smith looks like Boy George as a schoolboy pre-rehab.
Ariana Grande resembles an after-school Lourdes student at Whip ‘n Dip. Taylor Swift wears a teal curtain.
Charli XCX looks like she got shot by Spiderman.
D’Angelo and Nicki Minaj look like the part-time staff in the cheapest Las Vegas pole-dancing hole-in-the-wall.
It makes me wanna holler and throw up both hands.
On the other hand, during these tumultuous times, distractions are necessary in order to cope with the distractions that are preventing me from knowing what is, indeed, going on. And in order to know what’s going on around town, one must get plugged in. Twitter and Facebook change a lot of things, and we surf websites, read magazines and visit blogs to keep abreast of the latest happenings.
It used to be so much easier, but except for Alabama, whose only forward progress occurs on a football field, times have changed. I have not read the Herald since long before it came to resemble Damascus from across by the Perez. We eschew Time and Newsweek, logging into Vox and Buzzfeed instead. There we learn about the 10 top places to watch ibis, our five favorite French films in February, eight great pork belly sandwiches in Westchester and 17 things not to say to white Latinos in Miami. Quantifying has never been so trendy.
We all get sucked in, so we might as well confess and go all in. I use Eater, Chowhound, Miami New Times and New York Times to know where to eat, who is doing what, what to see, where to go, what has been built and what viewpoints are being discussed concerning Benjamin Netanyahu, vaccinations and Fresh Off the Boat. I read the Atlantic, GOOD, The Guardian and Mother Jones to learn about Dean Smith, Harper Lee, President Obama’s opinions on the Crusades and the social fabric surrounding American Sniper. Indiewire tells me everything I need to know about Boyhood, Whiplash and Birdman, so that I am armed well when attending O Cinema, the Tower or next month’s MIFF. Pitchfork, Aquarium Drunkard and Crossfade sound the alarm for music. Finally, for local color, I try Food for Thought, Miami Alive and Sweet Home Hialeah.
I may look down, but I am not out.
Carl Rachelson is a teacher at Palmer Trinity School and a regular contributor to the Pinecrest Tribune. He may be contacted by addressing email to email@example.com.