(no subject)
Whenever I consume any form of media, an unsilenceable part of my brain forever documents what I am consuming in terms of what I am obligated to share with the world.
"This book is good!" my internal monologue quips. "I should blog an excerpt."
"This song is making me happy! I am morally obligated to tell the world about it, just in case one of the hundred or so people who may glance upon the things I write might have their life impacted positively from it."
"Of what that I am consuming will earn me prestige if I lament of it publicly?" is what I've been, more or less, asking myself as of late. Is this the plight of identity in the information age? Is this some sort of broken, perverted output of altruism that should be channeled into other, more useful endeavours? Who on earth thinks like this?
It's time for me to start consuming for me and me alone. It's healthier. But for some reason, feels much harder. What series of events led me to be the sort of person who feels compelled to document everything that I like and dislike?
The number of people on this earth whose opinions I revere and respect in the manner that I sometimes wish that people would hold me in the same regard to are in the single digits at best, and of those the majority of I've never and likely will never meet in person. Perhaps that says something about me, too.
Anyway, Pontypool Changes Everything is a really good book, and you should read it.
"This book is good!" my internal monologue quips. "I should blog an excerpt."
"This song is making me happy! I am morally obligated to tell the world about it, just in case one of the hundred or so people who may glance upon the things I write might have their life impacted positively from it."
"Of what that I am consuming will earn me prestige if I lament of it publicly?" is what I've been, more or less, asking myself as of late. Is this the plight of identity in the information age? Is this some sort of broken, perverted output of altruism that should be channeled into other, more useful endeavours? Who on earth thinks like this?
It's time for me to start consuming for me and me alone. It's healthier. But for some reason, feels much harder. What series of events led me to be the sort of person who feels compelled to document everything that I like and dislike?
The number of people on this earth whose opinions I revere and respect in the manner that I sometimes wish that people would hold me in the same regard to are in the single digits at best, and of those the majority of I've never and likely will never meet in person. Perhaps that says something about me, too.
Anyway, Pontypool Changes Everything is a really good book, and you should read it.