Faith Salie on a life well curated

The growing popularity of the verb “curate” is making our Faith Salie increasingly IRATE:

If you’re watching this right now, I’m honored to be part of the entertainment selection you’ve curated.

We’re living in a curation nation. Did you know you can have your nail polishes curated?  Your closet? Blind dates?  There’s a snack bar company called Curate who will boldly select and organize, for your mouth, a presentation of quinoa, chia seeds and elderberry.

I don’t mean to brag, but my water filter curates tap water, offering moi the finest combination of H, 2 and O available.

Nowadays everyone’s a curator; no Ph.D. in Art History required. Got an opinion? Got content? Curate!

The word “curate” began as noun, which in the 1300s meant a clergyman (from the Latin cura or “care”). In the 17th century, curate was applied to a custodian in charge of caring for and preserving libraries, museums and the like.

Sometime in the late 1800s, curate debuted as a verb for such aesthetic pursuits. And then, soon after the dawn of the 21st century, le deluge. 

Martha Stewart demonstrated how to make our homes and scones picture-worthy.

Oprah Winfrey offered us her Favorite Things. (“We have curated all of my favorite things in one place!”)

Social media provides a constant platform on which to feature what we deem beautiful, meaningful and worthy.

From caring for souls to caring about selfies, curate has come a long way.

A Michigan university curated words that should be banished, and guess what landed on its list?

I think the curation consternation is this: Just because you like something or list something, are you really curating?

But the question, really, is not who gets to use the word or when will we reach “peak curate”; no, the real question is: if everyone is curating, why is there so much crap?!

One man’s content is another woman’s crap. And the crappy content -- let’s call it crontent -- will never go away. So God bless folks who claim to filter it; more power to them.

And now I must bid adieu. I can only hope the editor of this commentary has curated my crontents into eloquence.