if there is anything this somewhat apathetic girl is passionate about, it's communication. particularly written. what do you think I'm trying to do here?
okay, you're partly right. I am writing this and all else because I love to write. (but that there raises the question: why do I love to write?)
but I assume an audience. I even know parts of it. Kelli, Amber, Chris. I know them. they read this. (that there begets another question: why do they read it?)
questions aside, I am speaking here and there are people listening... so what do they get out of it? nothing really. just a connection, slight and metaphysical, with me and my brain. that's communication. whether it's effective or meaningful is yet another of those questions.
well, what is that worth? to me, it's invaluable. I've always said that the most coveted superpower is mind-reading. telepathy.
with written language, it's totally possible. in his On Writing, Stephen King described it by asking his reader to imagine a white bunny rabbit. with a blue bow. sitting in a cage on a small round table. you see it, don't you? you can see what I'm writing about. you see what I see. and if I tell you the bunny is fat, or that he has a patch over one eye, or that his ears flop just a little bit... then you'll see that too. see? telepathy.
but it's better than just record keeping, because the details of your rabbit and mine aren't just the same and in between what you think and what I think is room for an infinty of flexibility. that's the power of imagination. the endless freedom all humans are given.
in a lot of ways, sharing thoughts and expressing emotions is getting easier. look at this blog. my five-person audience can all read it at the same time. in different countries. that's fantastic. my little world as is represented here and your little worlds wherever you are get to connect for a minute, however thinly.
in a lot of ways communication hasn't gotten any easier at all. your email still might get misinterpreted. the guy in the next cubicle still might be a jerk and never talk to you. that's life. well, at least that's life when you've got billions of individuals running around, each in their own spacious universe.
Alex Nieminen says here that
"What ancient people did with cave paintings and stone carvings isn't that different to what people are trying to do with the internet today."
there are a lot of ways to think about information. dear dr. shook (color theory is a hoax, remember?) used to say that information is anything that you didn't already know. that's a lot of stuff. an endless amount, perhaps?
two sided, like everything i guess. i express stuff, and the rest of the world, who naturally are quite ignorant of what it's like to be me, absorb it. somewhere in between, something weird (interest, meaning, import) gets sparked out of a deep, dark, void.
now, I hate thinking about money. but when I want new books to read they don't just fall out of the air. nothing is free.
question: should it be?
my expression, or any artists, what is that worth? the price of the paint and canvas? traditionally i guess it's really just whatever anyone's willing to pay for it. if you can get a recording of your favourite band for free without literally stealing anything tangible... well, what does that piece of information become worth?
brilliant guy, mason 'tailsteak' williams ranted on similar topics here.
what's the point?
free love yo. there is already enough slavery in the world.
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