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January 22, 2007


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Bob Allen

This story was on CNN this morning, and it struck me as cynically presumptuous; as if we are all of a single type, the type that depends on the media even to tell us when we should be most depressed, yadda yadda. Another example of a Zizekian "foreclosure of space" in communicative capitalism? By this I mean the space to be something other than this type?


i picked my new replacement ipod (2nd gen nano) yesterday after the old one went kaput. apparently the connector bit had corroded. they were all like, "has it been near moisture?" and I was like "well, yeah, at the gum where I sweat like a bastard" and they were like "oh"

have you tried a different usb port, cable, etc? i hope it gets sorted

they are awesome when working, but the problem is that this awesomeness multiplies the annoyance when they stuff up. i shelled out for an ipod because i knew it would break and i wanted the proper service back up (i live near an apple shop/official outlet place)


How can y'all complain about "communicative capitalism" if you buy products that use propietary digital encoding? Lots of other options out there people . . .


I'm buried in ideology.

Bob Allen

Good point try-me, except my complaint IS about the insidious nature of one way communication- the good old telephone is still the killer app, followed by these interactive blogs for the "writing" crowd. My issue was with the MSM's caricature of a monolithic "us", a sort of "manufacturing of consent" as if, in order to be considered "sophisticated" we must casually accept our "burial in ideology" as normative, as in "we" go to war, "we" do this and that, as if there were no conflicting classes...ideology gives us two options, buy or not to buy and calls this "freedom"...I spent 9 years as a telecom customer service rep btw, somehow this is relative..

Patrick J. Mullins

'My ipod broke. I spent over 4 hours checking through Apple websites, driving to Rochester to replace it, dealing with people in the store, returning home to continued problems with itunes and nasty phone trees that resulted in my twice getting disconnected.

It's fixed. But I think Steve Jobs should pay me for my time.'

No, you should pay him. Unquestionably. Nobody 'needs' an ipod, but if they think they do, they do need all the potential irritations that sprout from them, which can always then be converted into 80's-style New Age affirmations if there is even the slightest loss of temper during the Glorious Servicing Process at Globalization Shops in Moderately Distant Mall Towns.

It's all about converting to the silliest things and then thinking they can be critiqued by something more serious--but that critique IS the iPod.


I have a cassette-based walkman. It works very well.


I don't think my criticism is serious enough to even be a criticism and not at all a critique. Whine is probably the best description, with bitching' thrown in for good measure.

Although I love "that critique IS the ipod"--probably because I don't quite know what it means, but anything that could be applied, inserted, filled in, would definitely be wonderful.

Kaj--oh the walkman...my first love. where is it now? If I only knew. That little sweetie went with me to the USSR back in 1984.

Patrick J. Mullins

Most of the factors Arnall used had nothing to do with it, but it was interesting to me that it coincided with one of the most horribly devastating several days, beginning last Wednesday and continuing, I've ever experienced. I've never cared much for January, but everything seemed to go more right than ever, and then just as suddenly there was a huge downturn--and it was not because of mistakes I'd made, as is often the case. The weather, while only cold but not very but always dark, is the only element he uses that might describe it, but something very akin to clinical depression symptoms--but that isn't, because it was all a series of clearly defined disasters that I was powerless to control--occurred. There was lack of motivation only in relation to energy just expended, and it's also true that without physical illness (there was none), there is nothing quite so memorable for many years afterwards as a period of total joylessness. The last I had like this were in 1999, 1997 and 1989, and you remember these in the same astonished way as you remember the most ecstatic and adventurous ones.

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