Adaptation
An old man decided it was time to learn to use computers.
And as he sat there contemplating the bright screen, he thought:
Bloggers are the new authors,
Poems only exist as Tweets,
Facebook and petty social networking is the new normal--
Turning Myspace into the new perversion.
Game creation is now the art of gods.
Everyone getting rid of paint brushes, paint and canvas,
Replacing it with a screen and a mouse.
Nothing is real anymore,
Everything is manufactured
And coated in a hard plastic shell;
Just like in the real world.
You can't physically touch anything anymore;
Nothing is tangible and everything is just out of reach,
He thought.
The real is now truly
Unreal.
-C (Wednesday, June 16, 2010, 4:45)
And as he sat there contemplating the bright screen, he thought:
Bloggers are the new authors,
Poems only exist as Tweets,
Facebook and petty social networking is the new normal--
Turning Myspace into the new perversion.
Game creation is now the art of gods.
Everyone getting rid of paint brushes, paint and canvas,
Replacing it with a screen and a mouse.
Nothing is real anymore,
Everything is manufactured
And coated in a hard plastic shell;
Just like in the real world.
You can't physically touch anything anymore;
Nothing is tangible and everything is just out of reach,
He thought.
The real is now truly
Unreal.
-C (Wednesday, June 16, 2010, 4:45)