The Year of the Ostrich

"Insanity in individuals is something rare - but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule." 

- Friedrich Nietzsche

The acrid tinfoil taste in our mouths from these ugly times, I imagine, is the same taste that inspired legions of young folks and open minds to take to the road in the late 60's to experience what Kerouac and Ginsberg and Cassady were on about - the hallmark of the culture that bore the hippies and All of That. And rightly so, we are in an Era of Change. These are tipsy times, and it stands to reason that no teetotaller should remain standing. One cannot see with one's eyes closed... I'm looking at you, ostrich.

So the mighty ostrich is our current culture's spirit animal. A beast, a fowl, pretending to be a bush with it's head in the ground. I beam with pride. In the same way that in the 60's, The Man was so dismissive of the beats and that entire un-understandable youth culture, now we see the same dismissive attitude toward Millennials. Their ways confuse us, their motives are subversive, their insatiable appetite for sriracha & avocado flavored Tide Pods is alarming. They stand to destroy everything we stand for, after we finally destroyed everything the previous generation stood for. We can't catch a goddamn break.

Maybe they're onto something. Maybe Facebook should just be a scrapbook between consenting adults, maybe Tide Pods are delicious. They might rise to the occasion, and I hope they do. Because if not, I'm going to wake up one day in something resembling a cold war era Soviet nursing home for criminals and ex-pats eating table-cheese and longing for the days when I could casually unplug my inter-cranial datajack and enjoy the solitude of a quiet, warm, sunlit deck on June morning, without having to report back to our cybernetic AI overlords.

Social Networking No Longer Cool

"Why do you think I let you get away with all the things you say to me?" I Like You, Morrissey

Your opinion matters - and not in the sense that sensitive people care about it. It matters because somewhere in a boardroom full of half empty fast food containers and dogeared pornography lie legions of greasy goons, drooling over your social networking profile because they can now make money off of it. Facebook is about to let advertisers buy your "likes" and republish them the your friends.

Do you like the kinky stuff? Good News! Now Facebook is going to tell your Mom. Think that Viagra is keen? Now your girlfriend knows about your boner medicine. Big-time racist? Johnson and Johnson is going to tell all of your black friends.

It kind of makes sense that Reese's Pieces would be able to hitch a ride on your Thumbs Up, but this is completely outside the spirit of hitchhiking. It's supposed to be a free ride...

Not the Only Me

One of these things is not like the others...

A few years ago I hunted down everyone with my name on the Faceyspace and friended them - it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I thought it might be cathartic but was sadly mistaken. I thought; why not explore exactly what is in a name? When you get right down the meat of it, the answer is: Nothing. Nothing is in a name, these people are hardly me. Kudos to them.

Odds are they won't rupture a spleen or perform a wedding. They won't ever work in TV or play music in front of a thousand people. They might start a blog, but it won't be any good. They are on a different path. They might find happiness or instigate social change... but I suppose that's beside the point.

There have been countless times when I have been tricked by the Faceyspace into thinking I like something that I know in my heart that I do not. Is someone sneaking onto my account or is it one of the others?

Of the collective me there is a football player, a regular dude, and a German. I think I have the most in common with the Kraut. Although I cannot understand the Deutsch of his posts, I like to imagine he has a brilliant sense of humor and is a real mind for the times.