Friday, January 19, 2007

Personal eschatologies, or when to call it quits

Late night walking from the pub on Waiheke led to talk about when to call all this quits. I don't know what students want anymore, don't know if I care that much any more, and more and more I feel my identity (and my mores) being subsumed in some enormous peer-produced machine (that was supposed to be so much better than the old machine - more just, more democratic, but somehow i can't tell one of the 50,000 or whatever number not to go, to run away to Canada or NZ like a good american would). Ok, so perhaps I do still care -- i can't help it, openness pays the bills and makes me feel good at the same time so that can't be all that bad.

Some have taken to desperately deleting things but thier artistic temperaments are still recombining and recreating at the same time like some perverse perpetual motion machine. (I'm listening to these by the way - free and in my favourite format.)

Is it just me or do things seem faster now? Is that 2.0? Twice as fast?

When my grandkids txt me an address to thier Olfactoripedia page where they've collected a variety of their farts from the past month - I'm quitting. I don't know about you...