I know that I’ve been inundated with too much iphone and internet when I start to write (I mean actually write – pen to paper) and I look for the microphone icon on the page of my notebook.

It’s also a sign I’ve been spending too much time Stumbling or Youtubing or Facebooking when I sit down to enjoy a nice episode of “Hitler’s Henchman” (or whatever it’s called) on the History channel, and I immediately start looking at the bottom of my TV screen to see what asinine comments there are.

Perusing the commentary on Youtube is probably the worst thing I can do.

And not just because it confuses non-online (non-line?) life. In a way, it’s like self-flagellation. I can finish a nice episode of Soul Pancake’s darling messages about gratitude, love, whatever – and I’ll suddenly get that rare warm fuzzy feeling.


Until I scroll down.

It’s ridiculous. Why do I care what the opinions of others are? I know I like what I saw and I know that there’s going to be discord in the discussions under the heartwarming video I’ve just seen. And I know I’m suggestible enough to let that make me ask, “Wait, am I stupid for liking this?”

Really, am I hoping to find a nice fulfilling conversation between like-minded souls? Or am I aiming to pull out my metaphorical Slurpee as I witness a metaphysical milkshake debate unfold? I tend to think it’s a little of both. Often, we just want to feel connected to someone who’s also seen what we have and Youtube offers that – like an interactive internet theater.

Except you don’t have to go through the nuisance of exchanging pleasantries, go out of your way to meet anyone, put on clothes, worry about their feelings, or even be completely awake.

Also, people can be assholes if they please. So there’s that.

In some other article, I’ve mentioned how this sorta technology overload has made me a little stupid, scatterbrained, and apathetic IRL. It doesn’t translate nicely. In Barnes & Noble the other day, I picked up book after interesting book, I’d get into it a little, and then immediately look up to see what else there was while it was still in my hand – like “tabbing over” in a browser. WTF? Is there such thing as “technology acquired ADHD?”

In fact, while at B&N I got this new Kaku brain science book that’s making me nervous enough about the future of neuro-tech-innovation to genuinely begin planning a Walden weekend sans Siri & Co. But that’s another blog entry for after I finish Michio’s musings – twelve light years from now. Until then, his novel is one rubber band away in size from doubling as a block for yoga – which I end up needing by the time I’m done reading each section.

So, no, I’m not ready to get onto a brain-ternet and have my thoughts read. Or to have my consciousness imprinted onto a laser to be beamed into the cosmos. I admit, it would be nice to be able to blog from my brain, and see if the thoughts that make sense in my head translate any more eloquently in English – or are just as bad as, well, this is.

However, there are some days I’m sorta glad for that shared idea area.

It might be a super deep analysis that arouses your reticular formation and has you sitting a bit straighter in your seat as you marinate on the mere concept.

Or it might be something simple (which I need after Kaku’s consciousness stuff) like comments on a song.

And sometimes, you just get a little of both in that “Ah, cool!” moment as you’re revisiting a classic Pixies song.


Ah! Cooool… (and nice Zingy follow up comment, too)

There’s no important or moral takeaway here.

Just that sometimes things we usually say suck, surprise us nicely with their simplicity.

“This confession has meant nothing.”