Conversation on the loss of physical media
This is perhaps an endearing oratory on why I've yet to own a portable mp3 player. There have been moments where such a thing would have propheced it's uses to be self-evident. But rewind (coda to follow).
In defence of things. You can't smell an mp3, nor appreciate the refined subtlety of lossless alternatives through touch. Noone destroyed entire forests to print the casing and liner notes for the products of the iStore. And are chopping down still, thankfully (this be a defence, y'see). Thats infrastructure; causality at it's most ordained and complex. In defence of what, but the History of physical media; the stories it could tell. And it's wrought with blood spilt, whole peoples enslaved with pittance wages and dignities stripped for our commerce- and it's fantstic. This is my defence of physical media, because of the injustices. A newly glossed cd album is still factory lined, Henry Fordededed, but still! You can smell the value of its laboured creation. It's been worthy every pound and pence. The cold, whirring disembodied ipod. In the future, is this what love will feel like?
Ipods are soulless, dead, disconnected. Their very use requites a certain deferrence, a trust in 'transience of origin' (perhaps this is revelatory and will become our undoing?)..Rewinding a track virtually rewinds nothing actually. In such a way, by doing such a thing and believing in it, we deceive ourselves, redeem the truth of the matter to be of our choosing, and disenfranchise our humble connection with the essence of our creative selves. Podiums ain't always neccesary, homes.
In defence of things. You can't smell an mp3, nor appreciate the refined subtlety of lossless alternatives through touch. Noone destroyed entire forests to print the casing and liner notes for the products of the iStore. And are chopping down still, thankfully (this be a defence, y'see). Thats infrastructure; causality at it's most ordained and complex. In defence of what, but the History of physical media; the stories it could tell. And it's wrought with blood spilt, whole peoples enslaved with pittance wages and dignities stripped for our commerce- and it's fantstic. This is my defence of physical media, because of the injustices. A newly glossed cd album is still factory lined, Henry Fordededed, but still! You can smell the value of its laboured creation. It's been worthy every pound and pence. The cold, whirring disembodied ipod. In the future, is this what love will feel like?
Ipods are soulless, dead, disconnected. Their very use requites a certain deferrence, a trust in 'transience of origin' (perhaps this is revelatory and will become our undoing?)..Rewinding a track virtually rewinds nothing actually. In such a way, by doing such a thing and believing in it, we deceive ourselves, redeem the truth of the matter to be of our choosing, and disenfranchise our humble connection with the essence of our creative selves. Podiums ain't always neccesary, homes.