I've confirmed my suspicion that there are entire parrallel poetry worlds.
When you physically travel to a new place, the retrospective report of your experience is defined by what you did, where (specifically) you went, and whom you met. Those things, for you, are that place. The internet does not have the luxury of borders, hence each individual or organization sets about establishing and defining persona(l) parameters: the visual textual stylings of each URL, each place. For now, I'll leave collective agencies such as MySpace and Facebook out of the equation.
One particular junket began with a link to a blog belonging to Lamination Colony editor, Blake Butler, a recent aquaintance of mine. From there, I followed a link to Tao Lin's blog, where I witnessed a big engaging ego, fumbling empathetically and failing (to some success). Amidist the frenzy that is the comment pages of his posts, I followed links to two of his compatriots: Noah Cicero and Zachary German. I should mention that prior to following those links, I took a number of short trips by way of Tao Lin's inter-post links associated with various discussion points (i.e. Moby, "shit-talking[s]" and more). Along the way, I found discussions relating to Tao Lin as well as to Noah Cicero and Zachary German. For now, I can't think of what to say about them, except, I don't know what they care about. There are somethings akin to Kenneth Goldsmith's notions of practicing uncreativity, but conflicting or competing with an angsty bravado.
I spent a long while reading about "shit-talking." I can't think of what to say about that either. I simply feel more unwell. Is this this the fallout of our New Communications? The ugly juxtaposition of our (id)eas?
I don't know. But I need further reading. These writers or "typists" are after something, exploring/ exploiting diluted scenarios and rhetoric. Something holds them together. There is a semblance of community, but is it an assembly of shared indifference on similar topics? Or is there a kind of hope? Further reading.