We live in world in which late adopters reign unchallenged as our tastemakers.
By Stephen Metcalf
Posted Friday, September 19, 2003, at 2:49 PM PT

This quote rattles about this morning as I multi-task, sipping coffee from just yesterday (Laura, my dear friend, is wretching as she reads this), procrastinate and send off jpegs to interested cliental parties.
Metcalf is writing about VH1's series Where Are They Now - Ford Supermodels, kvetching how the once-focused network has become more MTV in its fashion sense. I think the phrase 'late adopters' is grand, really jabbing into the complacent ribs of the producers and vp's out there attempting to sate celebrity-obsessed viewers. OK, I can be obsessive about the music makers of our world (in the alternative sphere, usually not seen on such networks - and the writer writes about one of the all-time favs, Flaming Lips, whose brilliant Do You Realize is appropriated for a promo and who barely have appeared save for the whatwasit She Don't Use Jelly which everyone thought was their saving commercial grace at that time before Wayne Coyne romped off to parking ramps with multiple boomboxes to create symphonies of echoed noise), and Johnny Depp, but fashion and H-Wood has creeped much too up the asses of the music world. Of course rock stars will always fuck models and vv but what about those of us who, before floating off to REM world (and I'm not talking about those men of GA), want a piece of rock and roll greatness.
Wow, there is con/destruction happenig right outside the building where I now blog (my home) and it sounds like the apocalypse is nigh. Just looked out the window facing west, from where the infernal noise is coming, and no, not the apocalypse, just some city workers who obviously don't comprehend that behind this modest window is a blogger, a churner of words, a thinker who needs to not be embedded in their workday chaos. I have enough of my own, thanks.
Love.