Password please...

Media. Before we know it, we'll be set to log in by the open of an eye. So few of us are offline. How much of our lives are lived on the outside? We parent, work, socialise, shop and network We even job hunt via the Internet. Digital footprints shall haunt us forever.

I wonder, at the Rimbaud, the Picasso, & of course, the Shakespeare, I wonder at the 'profile'; of their 'presence'. Would they be the figures they are, if the labyrinth of technology had been the reigning complexity within their time. Would the intricacy of applied science; activated & correlated have caused consternation between the Vernes & Wildes. Would we have seen Woolfe, brazen in her collection of movements of defining & defending equal political social & economic rights for women, pioneer a way of thinking? Or how 'bout Marx; the philosopher, historian & social scientist, was surely the most influential socialist thinker to emerge from the 19th century.

My point, is would these, those of whom became great, have stood from the crowd? Or would their works have been mispent amongst the gross masses humming along the wires.

I, myself, am an irrefutable enjoyer of the Net, but I am led to wonder at how little we really achieve in the face of hours spent ensuring we have the exact amount of online presence during our quest for success. There's something to be said for logging off. Something to be said for the handwritten word. I fear for the lost art of stranger-to-stranger conversing; we're so afraid of eye-contact & it's often violent repercussions that we prefer to stride out in solo ignorance, encased firmly behind our protective Suit of Armour: the iPod.

Whilst living behind your avatar, don't forget the simplicity of life. It's still there. It's still ours.  

T & A: what the?

Is it just me, or is there an epidemic on the amount of T&A shoved down our throats lately?  Every goddamn telly show, it's in the movies, & on the Internet. I join twitter, I'm inundated with requests for www.hardcore girls etc etc...My fiance joins, he gets his pick of the classless spreads.

We watch movies and I find myself IMDBing the parental guide, so I'm for-armed ahead of time, kind of like preparing for battle. We surf the net and tweet and fb and lordy, oh my, there's boobs and bits and nasty pics screaming out 'Look at me!' Just look look look!

Of course, it's always been there. And one click of the button you have tasty treats (if that's your thang) in secs. It's the incessant 'call-centre' mentality that's driving me to raise a banner and march to the beat of 'no more titties!'.  

Question is, when did I become such a prude? Since I found 'the one'? I'm sure I didn't mind a bit of the old saucy before now...Is it like when you're pregnant and you every where you look is pregnant chicks?

Or am I that insecure I can't handle my fella accidentally encountering a bit of the nudy stuff.

I'd like to say I'm outraged 'for the kids'. And what they may stumble across. Cause deary me it's a minefield. But I'm not sure I wouldn't be fibbing somewhat and in reality, I just ain't as cool as I used to be.

Oh lord, will I be one of those old deary's with the pursed thin lips?

Please, Madam, this is most inappropriate...

Use it or lose it.

So I've struggled to write recently. Not because it's not there. More that I can't seem to find the time. I'm working full-time & home-time means a whole other world of work. I find the lack of words a constant source of anguish. So, the moon is full & the crazies are dyed obnoxious--surely there's winding cobbled path I can follow them along?

Oscar Wilde & Jules Verne surely faced the uncertainty of a blank page coupled with bleeding gape of inactivity.

Maybe it's a baby-step thing...

Cracked

The Picture of Dorian Gray got me thinking about a topic that's been on my mind lately. Are 'we' obsessed with looks? How much of our behaviour is based on how we feel about ourselves? Do you step out with your best face forward, or do you hide behind a mask? If one was given the 'gift' of eternal youth, at what age would you settle for? Twenty? Thirty? Younger? Imagine looking out, aged & wise, from behind beauty & smooth. Would you? Should you?

Recently I conducted an experiment by posting an altered image of myself on facebook. I was surprisingly less confident in my communications, yet I, in my usual form, am wrought with insecurities as it is. We fight constantly to accept ourselves. & it's a joke. If we can't do it, who the hell else is going to?

Something to think about before we go influencing our kids.