Information Schminformation

Sending ones random thoughts out into the world. Can’t decide if this is more liberating or conceited?

I guess once you start going clickety-clack on the keyboard, it’s hard to stop. The typal diarrhea is overwhelming. Ok, maybe typal is not a word, so sue me.

Can you think of the huge quantum of random information we now have on strangers? No, I’m not alluding to Big Brother or *cough* Uncle Sam *cough* tapping our phones or browsing through our search histories. I am referring to knowing what a stranger hiding behind a completely nonsensical sounding username (ahem, self-deprecation) thinks about Michelangelo’s sculptures, strawberry ice-cream and the third Transformers movie, whether they like their coffee black or with cream, about whether they stepped out for work at 8 or 8:05 am. It is all out there. And we have read it all.

In a totally cosmic way, where is all this information going? Pseudo-intellectually speaking, of course. What are we going to do with all of it as this information continues to explode? Will it be found in the deep recesses of mainframes somewhere five hundred years from now? And will we then showcase it in a museum?

On display here, a 7 am Zumba routine playlist titled ‘Shake ya bootay’ found on archaic device believed to be known as iPod. Author unknown’.

Listen to all the weightless messages zipping through the air above you! Unknown, indeed.