Morph it Like a Polaroid Picture — Internet Events Flicker, Fade Away

As I was catching up on my online reading today, perusing my daily blog roundup for salacious posts on the latest Britney shenanigans, I came across this nifty little site that uses insta-technology to serve up some tantalizing results. The idea behind MorphThing is simple: With a few effortless clicks and drags, you can morph uber-known famous faces together to create quirky-if-somewhat-eerie images of celeb-hybrid spawns.

What sets this site apart from others of the same kin is the ease with which these morphs can be produced, the realism of (some of) the images, and the different Web 2.0 functionalities leveraged by the site. There are rankings, user ratings, comment streams, blog threads, homepage updates, e-mail-a-friend — the whole works. Hell yeah!

I know, I know, as a buzzy e-concept, Web 2.0 may be totes five-minutes-ago, but when it comes to consuming and blogging about sites like this, the term seems to fit the bill just right. MorphThing is the kind of Internet distraction that curious netizens like myself eat up in a heartbeat, if only to pass it on to our digital contacts in hopes we’re the early adopters of an inevitable viral cascade. It’s so digital zeitgeist: Play around with the site, tell your friends, recommend, get obsessed, tire of it, get over it, discard and move on to the next digital discovery.

Internet relevancy today is most glorious when it’s sugary and fleeting. Here today, gone tomorrow. A digital flash in the pan. Says so much, yet says nothing at all. Burns bright, then RIP. Like MorphThing. Amusing? Yes. Crafty? Also. Mind-blowing? Meh. Life-changing? Not so much. But it’s got some blogs a’buzzin’. Thoughts?

Let’s Love on the Wooden-Leg Goats

Here’s a post that’s not at all salacious, hair-raising, or meaning-laden. Just as I promised, I’ve decided to spill a bit amount of blog ink on… yes… farm animals! Not ponies though. I’ve taken a scant amount of creative license here and departed from my earlier commitment to talk about gimp horses to revel in something way better: fainting goats! Yes, that’s right. Fainting goats.

They don’t really faint at all though. They’re actually called myotonic goats. They’re all the rage in some parts of online, and for good reason. When they get excited, their muscles stiffen up, causing them to topple over like dominoes. Petrificus totalus!

In a world where no one bats an eye at the latest news of massacres or bombs or flash floods, these guys are making quite a splash, garnering their fair amount of much-deserved attention. Why? Check out this clip and see for yourself. It’s hilarious.

It sure beats looking at Britney Spears in a hot pink-purple tigress costume. Ew. I’ll take fainting goats over Hollywood trainwrecks-on-a-suicide-mission any day.

So how else can I spruce of this post? How about videos of plucky cats and their crazy antics? They’re straight-up super cheesy, but they still amuse. If it’s not your cup ‘o tea, well, we can just stick to the fainting goats. What do you think?

It's Britney, Twitch

As I was dabbling through my RSS reader this morning sifting through today's posts--scanning headlines in search of something that would grab my attention--I came across various tirades ridiculing Britney Spears' performance on last night's VMA's. So naturally, in honor of my inner voyeur (perennially salivating over salacious celebrity dish--I say Gimme More), I clicked on the play icon of the first video embed I could lay my mouse cursor on. Yes, yes, yes, the performance was a veritable train wreck. Lifeless, awkward, wacky, tacky--stressful even. I know it made me anxious, even though I already knew she wasn't going to fall flat on her face despite what all her spastic movements seemed to indicate. The celebrity audience, hesitant and puzzled, still managed to patter applause. Personally, I was actually impressed Britney was able to keep her balance throughout--I bet it's not easy to stagger around like that to the beat of a song onstage while wearing stiletto boots, a hooker's get-up, and a wig, all while doped up. I should know. I give her props just for that, for sure.

Anyway, the inevitable digital blitz that has ensued is proof that now more than ever, the medium really is the message. The real event wasn't the actual performance per se, but what came after. So Britney bombed onstage--who cares? The answer is, a lot of us do, and we need to talk about it. If it wasn't for the media documenting all her crazy, drug-fueled antics obsessively-compulsively (the head-shaving incident still makes tops--and hey, it's her prerogative), we would have not cared that much in the first place. It is the media that makes it what it is, and that gives it cultural (in)significance. The shocker is not what the live audience saw last night; it is what the media-inclined are experiencing today--on YouTube, on blogs, in news reports and gossip magazines. Last night, it was just one more mediocre, stale-ass performance. Today, it is an event. It is social construction at its best, live and in real time, and we are all invited. That's the power of digital media. Events aren't important the very second they happen; rather, they gain momentum with time and talk.

The Internet is Mentos to pop cultural Diet Coke. As I read and fervently consumed the comments being tossed around regarding Britney's fiasco, I couldn't help but smile. The one that made me laugh the hardest: "It's Britney, twitch." Genius.