There's a minor sort of flamewar going on on Socknitters because someone DARED to post that she didn't like the "socks that rock" yarn and didn't feel it was worth the price to her. And she's been attacked for it by the defenders of the yarn.
Why is that in the craft world? Why can't someone just simply say, I don't care for this particular item - without being jumped by a gang of its supporters? (Or, by the same token: why can't someone just say "I don't care for X" without being insulting about it*)?
(*which we also see in political discussions. No longer do you disagree with your opponent because his or her policy is flawed - he or she also has to be either an idiot, an evil genius, a depraved amoral lunatic, someone with strange sexual practices, someone who belongs to a strange religion (and is frighteningly devout in that strange religion), etc., etc.)
I don't even bother to read knitbook reviews - or any book reviews in craft-publications - because the reviews are invariably nice-to-gushing.
When and how did we learn that we always have to be super-complimentary, to the point of attacking someone who states reasons why they are less than thrilled with something? (I'm guessing that NO ONE - at least NO ONE in the "blog mainstream" [as opposed to the little backwater I sit in] is going to dare to criticize any of the blogger-written knitbooks out there, because of this "Code of the Schoolyard"* mentality.)
Sometimes, you know? Criticism can be a good thing. If it's done in a constructive way, it can help people improve or change things that don't work. (Okay, maybe I'm being a little envious here - I work in a field where criticism is the main form of feedback a person gets. Sometimes it would be really nice to have someone gush a little bit. Even if I suspected it wasn't sincere.)
I guess what I'm trying to say is that much of human discourse - aside from the most banal talk about the weather or American Idol or grandchildren or clothes - is broken somehow, people can't talk about deep ideas any more without someone getting huffy or insulting.
(* Homer: "The code of the schoolyard, Marge. The rules that teach a boy how to be a man. Let's see... (counting on fingers) Don't tattle. Always make fun of those different from you. Never say anything unless you're sure everyone feel exactly the same way you do." [emphasis added])
I don't own any STR yarn. Not sure if I'd buy any - I've got so much yarn now, and there are other suppliers that I have "colorways" in mind from when I am going to buy more. And I've found - by sad experience - that the more vibrant and exciting a yarn looks like in the skein, the muddier and messier it looks knit up, unless you resort to frustrating tricks like winding the skein off into several balls and knitting successive rows from different balls to break up the pooling, or doing a two-color pattern with a neutral color, or something.
On the other hand, rather dull yarns tend to knit up nicely - I'm very happy right now with the Lisa Souza "Petroglyph" yarn - it's a fairly constrained pallette, which means it's not going to be a big mess in the socks I'm knitting of it.
And I have to admit, I have some lingering uncool-kid rebellious feelings about STR - all of the "cool bloggers" are using it and raving about it. So as an "uncool blogger," I don't want to, because:
a. I might be branded a wannnabee
b. if everyone cool likes it, this may just be the "Emperor's New Clothes" all over again
c. I'd rather support someone who's an underdog...the unknown and unheralded yarn-dyers of the world
d. the Yarn Police might show up at my door and tell me I'm not cool enough for the yarn, and then take it away from me.
1 comment:
Isn't it funny how repulsive the cool thing can be if you get overwhelmed by its coolness status? I've always been reluctant to touch, own, do, or go along with something 99% of the rest of the world wants to do - at least, in the area of lifestyle and culture. I always feel there had to be a catch - some sort of snake oil sales pitch - involved.
Well - we shall just keep on marching to our own tunes, hmmm?
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