June 21, 2010
The clusterflock meme
There’s a good chance that you’ve come across the word “meme” at some point or another in the past few years. It’s an arcane academic concept but at the same time it’s also one of those things that you can identify, but can’t describe easily. Richard Dawkins coined the phrase in an effort to help explain cultural evolution in his 1976 book, The Selfish Gene, where it’s defined as a shared element intended to be passed around within a culture, a societal analog to a gene. Everything from Tamagotchis to “That’s what she said” count as memes.
- via Mashable
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perfect. link?
Was actually reading this on Mashable’s iPad app. I googled it and added the link. For future reference, you can always use this: http://lmgtfy.com/?q=Mashable+meme+Richard+dawkins
oh, because I’m supposed to add your links for you?
That’s telling him, Deron!
I know, right?
Sheila: Fuck you.
Deron: Fuck you.
You’re both just jealous of my sexy iPad.
duh.
“Sexy iPad.”
I am going to post a Freecycle plea for an iPad.
I don’t get this.
your mom doesn’t get this.
That’s what she said.
What you don’t get could fill the library at Alexandria.
Joseph, would you like to provide the context? Or do you want me to do that for you too?
You guys are all lazy.
and petty.
I made a new drink.
1 measure Hendricks gin
1 measure fresh squeezed lime
three teaspoons dark honey.
Stir lime and honey together in a crystal glass til they are fully mixed. Add half the gin, mix. Add three ice cubes. Add the rest of the gin, mix gently.
Deron, you should do it for me. And then go make me a sandwich.
Amanda Mae wins! “Johnny, tell her what she’s won.”
I’ll do that. Right after I link The Last Meal.
Deron, why don’t you just run round the corner, pick me up some more limes. Here’s a dollar. You run on, now.
I’m too busy with Joseph these days.
Did it myself, motherfucker. The WP app for iPad sucks my clean-shaven balls.
I’ll do it. Just as soon as I’m done peeing and spelling for Deron.
Can we keep the hostility below a blood relation level? I actually like you people.
I wasn’t done peeing.
I can’t pee and spell at blood level.
That’s what I’m here for, Deron.
Joseph, does your sexy iPad have a peeing app?
if it can spell in context I’m getting one.
Deron? You’re okay peeing on your own, right?
Sheila, no peeing app so far, but it can display this.
Sheila, so far.
That’s good, Deron, but how about peeing in context?
I reckon displaying “a well-known Internet meme” is something, Joseph. I can’t do that.
Your mom displays a well-known Internet meme.
When you guys come up with something funny, someone send up a smoke signal.
Did you hear the one about the man with five penises? Pants fit him like a glove.
I’m not paid to be funny. I’m paid to spell. And pee.
What the fuck is going on here! Don’t make me stop this car! I’ll take my belt off. Amanda Mae asked an honest question. And y’all pissed on it. Calm the fuck down, really, it isn’t funny. I’ve been party to things gone too far, I know it. This goes above and beyond, really, and to one who is a treasured ‘flocker.
Holy fuck! Ricky got down. Shit, man. Don’t get him riled up. He’ll fuck ya up.
Unless she’s in on the joke. Then my bad.
I actually am not in on the joke, but I don’t get it and it’s okay. I’m not riled at all. I’m headed out for ice cream and champagne, and will be back poste-haste. Must be a ‘flockstock joke I missed.
Rick, fuck you.
Amanda Mae, I love you.
Deron, fuck you. Just ’cause.
Joseph, bring it, girl.
Joseph, I love you.
Amae, let me buy the third round of ice cream.
Deron, I love you too.
Ricky, don’t be a-lookin’.
thank you, Joseph. and I love all y’all.
Joseph, you know I love you. Deron, you, too. Danny, you too. But if you mess with my girl, Amanda Mae, you’ll pay the devil. There is no sweetness as sweet. Yet she is a force, y’all. She will live to piss on all our graves.
You turn a girl’s head Rick. Though I am terrified about this sullen solitary future where I am urinating on the graves of people dear to me.
My favourite story of all time goes thusly: It happens in The Long Goodbye when Marlowe is taken to the den of a gangster for a confrontation. The gangster is calm but threatening towards him, trying to make him see that he has to do what the gangster says or there’ll be hell to pay. The gangster’s girlfriend enters the room and he greets her sweetly, kisses her on the forehead perhaps. He turns to Marlowe, “This girl, this girl is a gem, there is no one so beautiful, so kind and good.” He touches her face softly, and then without warning grabs a nearby bottle, breaks it and slashes her across the face. She falls back, terrified and crying, horrified and without a beat the gangster turns around and says “Her, I love. You? I don’t even like.”
Danny, ice cream is on me, I bought a Costco amount, in a rather foolish money-saving/time-saving scheme the likes of Madoff never dreamed of rationalizing to clientele.
Anyway, I love you all.
See, Amanda Mae? You bring it full-round. This is what I’m talkin’ ’bout. You see the picture. I never for a minute pictured you lifting your skirt and squatting over us. Just you will outlive us and take things to a whole new level. You will be a force.
“I’ll take my belt off.” That is something you never ever hear anymore. At least not here, the D.C. area, where the mention of a timeout is considered child abuse.
Carole we should have drinks some time. Lots of them. I could use lots of drinks tonight.
Remind me when swearing at each other in place of open-minded, honest debate became the way to express mutual trust and affection?
Or just let me know when it’s safe to enter the playpen. I’ll wait down the hall charging my sarcasm translator.
See the problem is I literally still have no idea what any of this is about.
One thread on a vibrant blog, Kelsey. There’s plenty of love and trust here, and there’s also room for poking fun.
The drifting away of Tracy Hinshaw left clusterflock with a fuck-you void that sometimes made me feel cold and empty. Thank you, Joseph, for stepping in and filling the void.
Can I just say that:
a) I’m with Amanda Mae, as in I’m also clueless.
b) Talk of memes on the internet just bores the piss out of me. No, really. Half the time it’s all above my head, and the other half is just, well, self-referential and onanistic.
I mean this in the nicest possible way.
Fuck you, Tracy.
Walt, I find use of the term meme annoying as hell!
Now that’s out of the way, I’m clueless as to the source of the original cluelessness. But maybe I can offer a little context. I like context. Sometimes.
When Joseph first posted from his iPad, “via Mashable” was linkless, prompting Deron’s “perfect. link?” What a generation or so before me used to call “good-natured ribbing” amongst Joseph, Deron, and me followed. There were meme jokes, such as Andrew’s. And people went along riffing (or not) for a while.
You’ll have to ask if you want to know about peeing and spelling, though. Too much context all in one comment — and early in the day — can be dangerous.
Thank you, Cindy. It’s almost like he’s here. I don’t so feel so cold and empty now.
I thought that might help.
Some context is tenderer than other. Some contexts are?
Is context countable?
Tender context.
Context is indefinable and immeasurable.
I just realized you were here, Dave. I’m about to flee to Alabama for 10 days, hiding from a boxed up house, but let’s see if we can work something out b4 that.
Carole, if you get to have a drink with Dave, please give him a big hug for me.
I will and I will, on both those counts, Cindy.
Oh, my. If my Galveston friends’ impending move to Gurley, Alabama happens at the right time, I might be down the road from your hiding place for a few days, Carole.