As of today, I am tweeting. (Today in fact was Thursday. Thursday is today once a week, which makes Thursday really happy, if only Thursday could be today everyday, but then everyday is today all the time, which makes Thursday really confused)
 |
| Me and Ravi in the latest Sci-Fi flick Fondue: The Next Generation |
Peep. So at half two I have one of these super insight moments, where all of a sudden life makes a little more sense in the wider context until I wake up tomorrow with a sleep deprivation hangover, a sleepover, thinking what an idiot I am to stay up that late, and wake up this fucked(ly). Not in the literal sense. If indeed I had been fucked all night (presumably some one-sided action) I might not feel fucked. Communication is low tonight, I apologise, dear non-existing reader, but remember I have tweeted my way through irrelevant human history until just now. To write a blog post... All this could not happen, had I not a piece of silver fruit lying in my lap. Another one of my sleek, suave transitions to refer back to the title: for the metaphorically challenged, I am writing this post from a silver Mac. On its throne of human leg it condescendingly stares at me with the bleak expression of a tyrant who only values its sovereigns for their willingness to submit themselves unquestioningly to its commands. Shift A, em, iiihh, enn.
Without my silver dictator no Twitter, no Facebook, no Emails, no life. Big fruit is watching me.
Which does not at all cohere with the other half (1/4 more likely) of my life that is crafting away all evening, wearing my thrifted dress, my retro specs with a botched victory roll and a large cup of tea (victory roll on head, tea on desk). How come that there is a increasing discrepancy between my technologically advanced life and my smudging, crafting existence? This question doesn't come out of nowhere; it is tied into the narrative that will become my dissertation at some point later in the year. Why is there an increasing interest in practical skills and rather traditional occupations that contrasts the hyper-technologised life? And this is just the beginning: I wasn't born into a technoliterate society, and I certainly wasn't raised to embrace the use of all things computer-y. Now however, we take it for granted. Try and imagine life before mobile phone, or life before Facebook. WHAT DID WE DO?????? (I sort of have a hunch that I ate most of the time....) Is there a correlation between the above collective loss of memory of 'what was before the computer' and the revival of a lifestyle before the technological awakening? Are select cultural subgroups celebrating the cult of vintage (like a religion) to built a new faith from scratch, one that is both incredibly stylish and comforting in an era where iPhones hit the market like marbles the bullied kid in school? Are sewing and crafting substitutes for values that are lost in the speed of our times? And how much more can we take? We all tweet, facebook, flicker, google, youtube, pinterest ourselves, blog, update, download, upload, stream, comment, like, unlike, unfriend, add, follow, block, tag, untag, scroll, track and click on a daily basis: we are not creating a spectacle - we ARE the spectacle (thanks to Guy Debord for this spectacular insight). There is no longer a distinction between me, my Mac and my Twitter account.
Hm, maybe there is. Spectacular, spectacular, no words in the vernacular, can describe this great event, you'll be dumbed with wonderment. (hooray for Baz Luhrman) I agree with certain grumpy, dead German scholars that quite possibly, we've reached a state of complete commodification, and that now, all attempt to escape it involves a wooden box and cheap flowers (which are bought in by the bucket load). To escape the technified world of pretty, white goods of consumption originating in Silicon Valley, by way of cheap Chinese labour, means to choose but a different commodity to cling onto. Fail, if you observe it from the outside, which you can't really, according to dead German philosophers. But I like consumption. (Also, I would quite like to destroy Victorian/Edwardian metaphors here: I am not Leonard Bast - there are antibiotics - there is more or less central heating: it is time to rid consumption of its negative connotations.) I like to identify myself with a particular group and this year's great event is the Vintage Festival in July, where like-minded vintage consumers gather to celebrate consumption in its purest and retroest form. Hat included. The dictatorship of the fruit is at work here too: how many vintage lovers do you see scrolling up and down their iPads or iPhones to see where one can find the best original YSL gloves in their original packaging bought in 1953 in Indonesia from a passing Frenchman in return for a bowl of soup? Hm, maybe I went a bit too far with this example, but the truth is, because the Fruit still benefits from its 90s and Naughties artsy image, a lot of the artsy vintage crowd are proud to use the Fruit. And I don't see as much of a contradiction in using the Fruit and liking vintage simultaneously. I must admit that I have written myself into a oneway street, and I am way too tired to talk myself out again. So this ends abruptly.
Which does not at all cohere with the other half (1/4 more likely) of my life that is crafting away all evening, wearing my thrifted dress, my retro specs with a botched victory roll and a large cup of tea (victory roll on head, tea on desk). How come that there is a increasing discrepancy between my technologically advanced life and my smudging, crafting existence? This question doesn't come out of nowhere; it is tied into the narrative that will become my dissertation at some point later in the year. Why is there an increasing interest in practical skills and rather traditional occupations that contrasts the hyper-technologised life? And this is just the beginning: I wasn't born into a technoliterate society, and I certainly wasn't raised to embrace the use of all things computer-y. Now however, we take it for granted. Try and imagine life before mobile phone, or life before Facebook. WHAT DID WE DO?????? (I sort of have a hunch that I ate most of the time....) Is there a correlation between the above collective loss of memory of 'what was before the computer' and the revival of a lifestyle before the technological awakening? Are select cultural subgroups celebrating the cult of vintage (like a religion) to built a new faith from scratch, one that is both incredibly stylish and comforting in an era where iPhones hit the market like marbles the bullied kid in school? Are sewing and crafting substitutes for values that are lost in the speed of our times? And how much more can we take? We all tweet, facebook, flicker, google, youtube, pinterest ourselves, blog, update, download, upload, stream, comment, like, unlike, unfriend, add, follow, block, tag, untag, scroll, track and click on a daily basis: we are not creating a spectacle - we ARE the spectacle (thanks to Guy Debord for this spectacular insight). There is no longer a distinction between me, my Mac and my Twitter account.Hm, maybe there is. Spectacular, spectacular, no words in the vernacular, can describe this great event, you'll be dumbed with wonderment. (hooray for Baz Luhrman) I agree with certain grumpy, dead German scholars that quite possibly, we've reached a state of complete commodification, and that now, all attempt to escape it involves a wooden box and cheap flowers (which are bought in by the bucket load). To escape the technified world of pretty, white goods of consumption originating in Silicon Valley, by way of cheap Chinese labour, means to choose but a different commodity to cling onto. Fail, if you observe it from the outside, which you can't really, according to dead German philosophers. But I like consumption. (Also, I would quite like to destroy Victorian/Edwardian metaphors here: I am not Leonard Bast - there are antibiotics - there is more or less central heating: it is time to rid consumption of its negative connotations.) I like to identify myself with a particular group and this year's great event is the Vintage Festival in July, where like-minded vintage consumers gather to celebrate consumption in its purest and retroest form. Hat included. The dictatorship of the fruit is at work here too: how many vintage lovers do you see scrolling up and down their iPads or iPhones to see where one can find the best original YSL gloves in their original packaging bought in 1953 in Indonesia from a passing Frenchman in return for a bowl of soup? Hm, maybe I went a bit too far with this example, but the truth is, because the Fruit still benefits from its 90s and Naughties artsy image, a lot of the artsy vintage crowd are proud to use the Fruit. And I don't see as much of a contradiction in using the Fruit and liking vintage simultaneously. I must admit that I have written myself into a oneway street, and I am way too tired to talk myself out again. So this ends abruptly.
 |
| Leadership theory. Is it just me? |
No comments:
Post a Comment