……over the edge

Something that the now wide open door of communication leaves embedded are small carbon diamonds of connection beyond the everyday, impromptu, binary silicon handshakes. Our synapse log information, wanted or not.

Friends are found through intertwined threads forming the net. A subjective passage through idealistic spaces, not requiring the normally necessary unselfish tolerance of human faults or habits – for one may simply pull the plug and as eddies of bathwater, hours of contact conversation and enrichment spiral, swirl and vanish.

Stay inside your avatar shell. After hours of appreciation, interest and giving of ones golden self from within this untouchable wire cage, unless you are of stainless steel and can put reality aside. But most attachments remain as stains or delightful dye, which is so difficult to untie.

One is intoxicated with invoked, incomparable instances of incredible imagery, instigated initially by interaction with the internet. This is not a mere peripheral sighting. The woven web envelopes and is inclusive for those with the luxury of the fourth dimension – Time.

So is the web in place of: the lion slaying gladiator, the field or court sportsperson, the entertainer, the modern freak show? Even the culture of personality created by the unreal reality show? Even the writing and theatre of dissent all to keep the mob busy and quiet?

Then all this interconnection backfired and booted up the disorder .ini(tiation) file, on the streets of London and assisted spring rebellions. “Why”? asked a reporter of a London teenage girl “because they can”, she replied.