‘The Long Tail’ was a really interesting read, and it uncovered a few unsettling facts about society’s needs and wants – in particular our assumption that only hits are worth producing, and yet any miss sold fills a margin just as clearly as any hit.

It reminds me of all those reports of albums such as Robin Thicke’s latest only selling 56 copies in Australia – and makes me wonder who were those 56 poor and potentially misogynistic souls feeding Thicke his royalties? The concept of going to a record store to buy the latest pop album is bizarre enough in itself – let alone a really bad pop album. (If it wasn’t for my dad’s insistence on monthly family outings to Basement Records in Fitzroy, I’d be struggling to understand the concept of buying CDs altogether).

I still remember going into JB HiFi with dad as a 5 year old to buy Vanessa Carlton’s single of 1000 Miles and the excitement that brought with it.

Are there still people around buying these CDs? Profitability suggests that there must be and yet they have become nearly a foreign concept by 2014.

In the coastal town of Queenscliff, there is an old bookshop stacked to the roof with walls of old paperbacks, and that accompanying old book smell. My mother and I go there to buy bizarre art and non-fiction books published in the 60s and filled with images ideal for collage. About to begin a collage on the weekend, I remarked to mum that I felt bad cutting up this enchantingly wacky picture book (‘Australian Indoor Plants’ by Stirling Macoboy if you’re interested (I can only assume that’s his real name)). She reminded me of the store we had just been in – and the fact that without turning them into art it is unlikely that these books will ever achieve a second life.

The world is filled to the brim with worthless artefacts that are the individual results of months and years of efforts and creativity.

While I understand that misses are profitable economically, are they ecologically?