Sons and daughters,
we scribbled just about anything down in our moleskins and composition books because we had to let the feeling out. I hope that you still have diaries, ones with keys, by the time you need them (I will never ever read them). We called because we had a conflict to resolve, we had a huge secret to tell, we had to find out as much information we could, we needed directions, we needed direction, I mean we exclusively called when we needed directions, we knew our friends' phone numbers. When we needed to express something, we didn't publicize it for every friend we've ever known, or for any person on the planet to have as much right to our expression of those things as ourselves. And no matter how it was publicized, it was expected to be worthy of the audience's attention (a span which has become too short for this paragraph). The technology we have been given is used more by my peers (as a majority) for sharing basic prose with the networks they have created - or maybe brief glimpses of our streams of consciousness - rather than influencing each other with our own mighty thoughts and ideas. No matter how reasonable, everything that takes more than a few moments, a single take, the shortest short-cut, is an inconvenience to ourselves, or, if not, to others. My friends who write well - when? I hope you have the patience to put it somewhere at all. Sons and daughters, what will amount to anything for you? Will you be born into western society impatient? Imperturbable? What lengths will you be willing to go? How will you be?
How will I be?
De Bye, c. 1660
I see where it started to crumble. If my cell phone was replaced by an older land line miraculously in the night, I wouldn't know how to call the first person I think about when I wake up. I now see that we are in a constant state of communication - it is easier than I could ever have wanted. "Hey, it's me. I'm actually going to be there in five minutes instead of two."
To those who really feel me,
My feelings about art and technology are always intertwined. I see so much having to do and say one million things half-way; it is sticking out a lot to me. So in spite of everything I come across that is concept-rich and well-intended, I feel more partial to art and music that is most impassioned, and in tie, scrupulous. I think that I know some of the most important souls in my culture, and that we all have the gifts to rise a generation's level of consciousness, or at least to birth an identifiable aesthetic. I hope we do the things we need so as to make this happen, and I suspect the destruction of our networks of insentient communication will come sooner than we expect. I feel, though viable in its potential, the rebellion will need more than a defiant appreciation for DIY and analog - fueled by angst, pretension, or most fruitlessly, nostalgia - for the real change to come. Of course DIY, but let's all Do It Ourselves With All of Our Soul to the Best of Our Abilities.
I intend to spend my days contributing all of the positive energy in my universe, that I am allowed to borrow, to the rest of the indigo children, may they believe in themselves and what we are to achieve with one another's participation.
