Once upon a time self-portraiture was an artistic staple. Self-portraits are some of the most famous, recognizable work by Rembrandt, Caravaggio, Courbet, Picasso, Beckmann, Warhol and hundreds of other artists. For the better part of the last few decades, self-portraits haven't been a part of contemporary artistic production. There's Chuck Close, there's Cathy Opie and after that the field thins. (The most common contemporary self-portraits are the distanced, filtered, Cindy Sherman/Nikki S. Lee/Matthew Barney type.)
Enter Facebook and Twitter, which have been where self-portraits go to live. While artists are increasingly disinterested in self-portraits, the rest of us are in love with them.
-- TYLER GREEN
The man who designed the Pringles potato crisp packaging system was so proud of his accomplishment that a portion of his ashes has been buried in one of the iconic cans.
Fredric J. Baur . . . was 89.
We are a culture that takes youth, beauty, and instant gratification as the greatest goods. Meanwhile we are saddled with an ever-growing population of old farts who sap our energies, drain our treasure, and offend our eyes. Whereas in the past we could count on the old to expeditiously die and get out of the way, today the medical profession keeps them alive until an unseemly age, a burgeoning, top-heavy dead weight that youth must carry on its shoulders.
The respected elder of yesteryear has become the burdensome geezer, no longer producing public wealth and consuming it at an alarming rate.
-- CHET RAYMO
My ethic of identity is simple and clear: I stand by my words here and elsewhere with my name. I tell commenters that I will give them credence if they do likewise.
Elsewhere, online and in journalism, the ethic of identity is less clear today. Take as illustration the case of this post involving Politico and a bit of sockpuppetry from an employee of the newspaper in the comments.
-- JEFF JARVIS
The oft-quoted statistic is that men think about sex on average every seven seconds - and while it sometimes feels like every two seconds with me - the perception guys are sexually-obsessed walking erections must gall a lot of blokes.
I am as horny as any man you could (not) hope to meet but don't make the mistake of thinking I am the norm - my good friend El Guapo has told me for years that I am oversexed and that he can go hours, sometimes even all day without shagging, nudity or sweaty bathroom cubicles crossing his thoughts.
The characterisation of men at the mercy of their sexual impulses, with this impetus attributable to how we're hardwired, rather than conscious choice or societal conditioning, is no less insulting to blokes than blanket statements that all women just want to get married and have babies, love shopping or can't drive.
I know I hate being pigeon-holed, and while I'm apt to kick against most gender stereotypes, this is one that's hard to argue with because I'm just so frickin' toey all the time.
So do men think about sex more than women?
-- SAM de BRITO
Knock knock.
Oh hi, how's it going? It's me! Every girl ever. I'm really looking forward to this date. I'm not nearly as attractive as you remember me being because when we met the bar was dark and you were drunk. Come on in.
Let's start off with the unavoidable tour of my incredibly typical post-college-girl apartment. You'll notice that I went ahead and purchased everything that Ikea and Pier 1 have ever produced. There's my decorative birdcage over there even though I don't have a bird, and there's my gay wicker basket with bamboo poles in it. I don't know what the hell that's thing's all about, but I bought it.
Hey check it out, I have more candles in here than a Roman Catholic Church. Doesn't it smell like Hazelnut!? If I were to light all of my candles at once you could see my apartment from space! I fucking love candles!
-- CRAIGLIST
Image: "Self Portrait With Felt Hat" (1888)
By Vincent Van Gogh
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