The age of compressed reason
I just lost one of my favorite blogs since I started here. It simply disappeared, like the chimera. gone. How can I recreate what I just said. It was from God. It was perfection. And it was for my eyes only. Okay, here goes.
Remember a time before compression? No, its not going to happen. I wrote the perfect blog. I'm not kidding. IT was outrageous. It's gone. I'm not supposed to be a writer. I hate God. How could he have had me lose this blog. It was the devil. I had a perfect blog. I know it. YOu don't know it. I'm so fucking pissed off. Okay here goes.
Remember a time, long ago, a time before the age of compressed reason. Let's take vinyl, shall we? (this fucking sucks) There was a simpler time, yes, a simpler time when listening to vinyl was marvelous for it's imperfections. The stylus and the turntable, warpable plastic, the etch-a-scratch warble of the record. Ahhh yes. I remember it too. Well, that doesn't really exist anymore. We have entered the age, long ago rather, of compressble reality. Since the warm tubes and dots of our sounds and sights turned from Analog to Digitrog, we have begun to lose our elasticity as far as being human is concerned. We keep getting smaller and smaller, our souls have less air in them. We are merely recreating reality as technological flora rather than seeing nature and reproducing wood and sky, stars and moon. The sheen is the thing now. There is no interaction of humanity because it has been compressed out. Turned into digits, style over substance. as we go High Def, the simple act of letting our hair grow out has been replaced by a plastacine shimmer over our domes, our hands turn to wires and sinews to chips. We are seeing the logic of the machine, through it's eyes, through our analagous desires to feel and connect. WE MUST CUT THE MESH AND ENTER THE FORMER FOREST OF SPACIOUSNESS AND ELASTICITY! There is too much digital pressure on our cortexes and muscles. There is far too much weight on our conciousnesses to bear this crushing, cybermortal paradigm. Jesus was a shape shifter who understood that compression was synonymous with heft. Lack of weight, symbolized by the money changers and saducees, wearing black, the only "color" of a compressed age, sought to remove that lightness. The prince of Darkness comes in the digital and high definition spectrum. Turn back to the age of a feather. The seventies, with its middle earth technology, and disco as its anthem, was the only true renaissance of the human and heavenly realms. We can return. Time machines exist and must be taken back. Back through the time tunnel of our flight from a mausoleum to a lake.