anti-social media

I’m Back (Again)

It’s true… I struggle to update this blog regularly and I have for the last decade, really. Partly it’s because social media put a real dent in blogs—regrettably, for me, as I have always disliked so-called social media… and only real popular blogs have weathered the storm somewhat unscathed. So it’s a major disincentive to bother with a blog when you know no one bothers looking at it unless you personally prod them into doing so!

And life itself—the complications, the distractions, the tragedies, the endless quest for income and stability… it’s heavy. Who needs to blog about that or prioritise blogging to a silent or non-existent audience instead of focusing on important stuff?!

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The Internet is Boring

Yes. Sometimes, too much is just too much. How can you effectively prioritise (or digest) when an endless, vast swamp—admittedly composed largely of baboon shrieking, chest-beating and effluvia—is at your fingertips? A sprawling landscape of noise and data and distraction, to numb you, desensitise you, program you, mind-fuck you, turn you into a stupid, drooling, hypnotised bot with no thoughts worth expressing…

The Internet was kinda good when everyone wasn’t on it. Before the establishment realised what a fantastic crowd control tool it was and declared that everyone should have access.

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Brave And New

I said recently in an email that I thought Huxley had it nailed—the most effective form of oppression isn’t force and violence. It’s privilege and comfort. Make the prison cell a luxuriant one and they won’t complain. Mostly.

But I’m not sure it’s 100% there, actually, because so many people these days have the weary, joyless resignation of utter defeat rather than ignorant bliss. I think this expanding technology, heralded by the Internet explosion since the Millennium, for all its addictive, compulsive, habit-forming qualities—this surfeit of neverending distraction—is not, in truth, a very happy addiction.

Things used to be more fun, folks.

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Everything Old Is New

I sometimes wonder if my growing disinterest in contemporary culture & entertainment may be that inevitable process by which a person in mid-life attains the venerable status of old fart. The stories of this are endless and apparently mostly true. Take the 1960s. I wasn’t there to remember all this, but evidently the old farts in their droves attacked & dismissed the likes of the Beatles for having unsightly long hair and making an ungodly racket.

(I still don’t understand the hair bit. Pre-1967, the Fabs had the same hairstyle that was worn by Moe Howard of the Three Stooges since about 1930. This has never struck me as the least bit radical.)

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September ’15 Update

As has become the clich√© here, the intention to not neglect this dusty old place gets trumped by actual real-life nonsense. This time it was a move. I moved to a ground floor flat near Northfield (Bham) in early August. It didn’t go very well—actually, it’d be easier to list what didn’t go wrong—including no Internet and ballsed-up electrical wiring—and I was back at Steve‘s after five weeks.

Still. That’s five weeks I’ll never get back. I lost a lot bit of money on the deal too.

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Don’t Quote Me

I deactivated my Facebook account almost five days ago. I haven’t broken and logged back on yet either, but, per the title, don’t quote me… baby steps, ain’t it… maybe I’ll stay away, maybe not. One thing is certain: I’m not gonna let it be a part of my life in quite the same way. Ever. Again.

Maybe I should mark that momentous day, just over a week ago, when this blog (which managed to survive by the skin of its teeth, in spite of its long hiatus) reached the age of 14. Anyhow, 14 years makes this one of the older blogs around, for better or worse—it was worth saving, I think.

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Better Than Life

Yeah, yeah, it’s tough to get into the swing of blogging again. I’m trying. About 8-10 years ago, I guess, was something like a peak time where I really enjoyed it, for the most part (family members dying notwithstanding, obv), but—and I’ve touched on this a bit before, albeit quite some time ago—that was before the grim spectre of Facebook (and so-called Social Networking in general) cast an enormous shadow over all things Interweb.

And I’m still not feeling that. Yeh, I respond to the peer pressure to an extent. Breaking out of conformist, sheeple patterns of behaviour is difficult for everyone, apparently. I find it disappointing and infuriating, in myself as much as in others. But in the end, Facebook is like fast food. It hasn’t got much taste and the nutritional value is exceedingly poor.

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