For a long time, I have loved lists.

When I was little I kept books of lists, lists of my favourite things mostly, and my least favourite, and things I wanted and places I wanted to go etc. I kept them updated and I did stuff with them.

When I got a bit older I wrote zines which asked people to write their own lists about things they wouldn’t usually think of.

Then I started to become interested in art and film and photography and junk, and I began to think that lists were artless and primitive.

Now I only use them for productivity, writing To Do lists every day and watching my effectivity like a hawk. It works really well for me.

Then last semester in Networked Media we looked at databases, and the way that they act almost as a type of list, or a list as a kind of type of database, and how this in itself was kind of an art and something that modern artists were exploring. The different ways of exploring databases and user experience etc.

And today I ready this, an interview with Umberto Eco, about his exhibition that is preoccupied with lists. He explores lists in modern culture. It’s an interesting read and worth coming back to later if I ever need to justify my list writing to myself.

If Homer did it then why can’t I?