I think that writers often try too hard in the name of expression, when often it's just a matter of reframing what's around you or republishing a preexisting text into a new environment that makes for a successful work.

My favorite method of encryption is chunking revolutionary documents inside a mess of JPEG or MP3 code and emailing it off as an "image" or a "song." But besides functionality, code also possesses literary value. If we frame that code and read it through the lens of literary criticism, we will find that the past hundred years of modernist and postmodernist writing have demonstrated the artistic value of similar seemingly arbitrary arrangements of letters.

I think it's time to admit that our writing is guided by the technology we use as much as it is by our own subjectivity.

For me, Twitter is a public persona. It's UbuWeb or Kenneth Goldsmith (as opposed to Kenny Goldsmith). I don't interact. It's a lousy form for conversation and opinion (what can you really say in 140 characters?), but a wonderful propaganda and sloganeering tool. I use it as a one-way street.

Language is material to shape and mold, not only a transparent or invisible medium for communication, business contracts, or telling stories.

Favoriting tweets has become a form of acknowledging that you've read what someone else has written.

You can't show me a sentence, word, or phoneme that is meaningless; by its nature, language is packed with meaning and emotion.