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How We Like It


NOTICE: all posts prior to the present one have been deleted—akin to destroying the social and intellectual heritage of this inchoate blogger, his feckless and juvenile discussions of former taste and talent, his arrogant and narcissistic rants on popular culture and the inheritances and potential legacies of our current generation. This erasure is represented visually by the following picture:

Ours is the Computer Generation and, computer generated, we thrive on this easily changeable landscape of deletion, reformatting, rapidity and repetition, popularity and sharability (not a word—but, like Shakespeare, we make up our words), brevity and the soul of wit. We determine what you find as what we want you to find. We do not reveal ourselves and we do not reveal our names—but perhaps reveal ourselves through our elisions, through patterns hidden somewhere in our codes. We have shifted some measurements. Never before has the individual been so small—yet we see him as large. Never before have we been so similar—yet fervently we project our assumed identities. We are all masters of our own domains. Perhaps we do not truly know ourselves, do not recognize our own consciousness and idealism, our spirituality, never really stop to appreciate anything but the most ethereal, the most indifferent, the most colluded. We like it this way. We like it artificial.


From → What's Ours

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