I keep getting invitations to join the damn site. My first thoughts were:
1. Pinterest? What’s next, Ibsenest?*
2. Put up scads of photos of things I covet but can’t have? How uplifting.
3. How does this thing make money? Oh my, they admit they don’t have a clue. How very…21st century.
Of course eventually I succumbed to the Pinterest hive mind. You know, I used to read Thoreau and Emerson in my youth, and their essential message is “Make, not buy.” So I feel a bit unclean.
But then again, when I checked Walden out of the library many years ago, the granola-eating, Birkenstock-wearing university librarian said: “Thoreau, ugh.”
*Seriously, how do you pronounce this name? Is it Pin-ter-est, or is it Pin-tress?