In an attempt to fumble a goal out of some empty-field-running that is this website – hitting the same dead ends again in vogue most definitely – so one could wonder why would you even spin the virtual wheels anyway?
If you’ve had the pleasure to click through some net evangelists you’ll naturally ask such questions. There are people out there, today, right now, still arguing for something and in some ways it’s enviable because they got their Crusade. These crusaders get the ever-frothy side quest to interject between Chipotle lines: “Uh, hello? What, you think cars are bad – dude, cars are just one component of the big ‘climate’ change agenda – like a watermelon, green on the outside, red within – Big Oil, chemtrails – hello?”
What is it like to type so fervently and believe your Big Words of Change will, in fact, change things? No doubt they probably do, especially packaged in the number of retoots or cold hearts – though perfectly contained, twitching ahead our LCD soundsystems. Raging into a final night to start it all again.
Maybe they’re the right ones. Maybe it’s important to say it like it is – it’s just hard to be convinced of that. Rarely anything good comes out of saying it like it is, so it seems. But at least they got their crusade…
Paradoxically, despite the foolishness in any virtual verbal stance – that it’s rare you’ll reach anything or anyone for your chattering bit-shifting Gerbil-y Cause – nevertheless Technology reveals itself as too intimate. It seems to accelerate any ideals and relationships indefinitely until they crash at 10x the speed. Whispering up late about the pillowtalk you ought to choke out – you can see this all the time in Open Source communities. It’s suffocating – most online communication is. Funny how intimately distant one may maintain from actual belonging and understanding, but you can certainly achieve it today – delude yourself in successive clicks until demons rev up some cruise control.
This is what at least makes This Place comfortable. You can be as intense and distant as you’d ever want – a disenfranchised gathering stonewall. We’re talking, but not really. I’m sure we could be friends, but I’m not sure what that entails other than rotting together. We’re already doing that, aren’t we? If we’re gonna rot, I’d like for us to do it with some indie chutzpah: on our own hours to report back here. And when you do the same, we can compare high scores – hell, maybe with enough time the rot ferments into something sweet.
Well, in any case, most people live virtually too close, too zealous – the nausea of red dots from any messenger would making hanging oneself seemingly practical. And yet that’s how a big chunk of randoms work around here.
It sure is a different world.
Anyway, if we’re going to spin virtual wheels, may as well jimmy-rig some wheels of your own.