The connective downturn. Connectivity, asserts Bruce Sterling as I make my way through 1000+ unread items in Google Reader, is an indicator of poverty. Privacy, I learn by implication, is wealth. I read this and think, as I check for new links on my Delicious network, about the physicality of solitude. These thoughts stay with me as I scroll through my Tumblr dashboard, reblogging and tagging as liked, various posts from my network. I focus my thoughts on the peculiar gap that exists between the connect and the social and then its mirror, the private and the solitary. The thing about connecting online is that the gap is never bridged. The connect remains separate from the social, the solitary detached from the private. Poverty, I assume Sterling to mean while looking at new photos from my contacts on Flickr, is the confusion of the two.
I return to my bookmarks and ponder the most positive phrase on the internet: I am psflannery on Delicious. Add me to your network.
Soliloquy
The connective downturn. Connectivity, asserts Bruce Sterling as I make my way through 1000+ unread items in Google Reader, is an indicator of poverty. Privacy, I learn by implication, is wealth. I read this and think, as I check for new links on my Delicious network, about the physicality of solitude. These thoughts stay with me as I scroll through my Tumblr dashboard, reblogging and tagging as liked, various posts from my network. I focus my thoughts on the peculiar gap that exists between the connect and the social and then its mirror, the private and the solitary. The thing about connecting online is that the gap is never bridged. The connect remains separate from the social, the solitary detached from the private. Poverty, I assume Sterling to mean while looking at new photos from my contacts on Flickr, is the confusion of the two.
I return to my bookmarks and ponder the most positive phrase on the internet: I am psflannery on Delicious. Add me to your network.