I Can't Believe I Remembered My Password
Seriously. Is this thing on? I guess. I didn't think too many folks still read this here fabulous LJ doo-hickey. I got "serious" about things and made a "blog" about stuff somewhere else. I completely forgot that I had this account, and then, well here we are, Lego Island pics an all. I'm surprised to see some friends still (seriously) using LJ. I thought it had gone the way of the dodo, but it might be going the way of MySpace instead. Which is a shame, because I have nothing but fond memories of writing on LJ, and the goofy things I would do and get into on here. I think I have the two major concussions I've received, recorded on LJ.
Delving back into the past like this makes me think about what will happen to all of this shit when we're dead. I know there have been some services, and to be honest, this particular one has been kicking around in my head since I heard of it a few years ago. I suppose that wasn't the practical answer I was hoping for--but rarely are practical answers found, it has been my experience, when dealing with an emotional investment in something immaterial such as online communities and art you don't make yourself. If no paper trail is literally available, what is there to save from the furnace, or to publish? Would Kafka have kept a blog?JD Salinger? What if they had one and wanted to delete it before they died, would you, a loved one, listen? Would the dead care?
Probably not, at least on that last one. But with Twitter in the Library of Congress is all this kvetching useless? Should we even worry that so many instances of our lives are recorded somewhere, and made (somewhat) available? I don't know. But I do worry.
Delving back into the past like this makes me think about what will happen to all of this shit when we're dead. I know there have been some services, and to be honest, this particular one has been kicking around in my head since I heard of it a few years ago. I suppose that wasn't the practical answer I was hoping for--but rarely are practical answers found, it has been my experience, when dealing with an emotional investment in something immaterial such as online communities and art you don't make yourself. If no paper trail is literally available, what is there to save from the furnace, or to publish? Would Kafka have kept a blog?JD Salinger? What if they had one and wanted to delete it before they died, would you, a loved one, listen? Would the dead care?
Probably not, at least on that last one. But with Twitter in the Library of Congress is all this kvetching useless? Should we even worry that so many instances of our lives are recorded somewhere, and made (somewhat) available? I don't know. But I do worry.