[A very smart person recommended that I build this tunnel. According to the general theory of friction, if something is too easy, you just slide around all over the place and get nothing done. If you put up a few obstacles that restrict your activities, you can trick your brain into focusing. This article inspired me to create a hand coded HTML site and stick it on a private server. For now I will use it to share some excerpts from my hack, amateur writing. I'm exploring the voice of the third person, because the modern internet has really worn away my patience for the first person singular, whether I'm reading it or writing it.
So, in the spirit of being a contrary old crank, I'll point out that there's nothing to do on this website except read words. I'm sorry, but there's no upvotes, downvotes, likes, comments, or hashtags. There aren't even pictures! What the heck is this? If you are interested in directly communicating in some way about this website or the writing on it, feel free to call, text, or email me. I'm at (669) 204-8901 or duval.dan@gmail.com. Thanks for stopping by.
01/06/2024 ]
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"Hey, have you noticed that in the last 48 hours, the internet has become completely unusable?"
Steam rose from the coffee. He dipped a spoon into the condensed milk and let it slide, slowly, into the drink. The perfect combination.
"You know what, I did notice that. Even logging into a web browser on my laptop, with all of my adblocking tools on full blast, the number of popups, ads, and account creation nags was so intense, I just gave up. I decided to close the computer and go outside. I took a nice walk - it was great, actually."
The liquids swirled together, gradually melting away into a new shade of lighter brown. Not always the most appetizing color, but in this instance, absolutely perfect.
"Yeah. I think last week, we crossed a threshold where there is nothing left to do in a web browser that isn't a total waste of time."
He lifted the mug. Viscous, sticky liquid sloshed up the sides. It was his third coffee of the day, and each had been more satisfying than the last.
Opting out of social media does not earn you extra social capital. Musicians - and, in fact, most people - are taught that opting out is career suicide. But lately a thought has crept up on this humble, middle-aged musician: what will happen to his mind if he can't detach from social media and read a book instead - ideally, a really good book? How many books will he read in his life? Too many years have gone by where he's read thousands of status updates and comments, content with no editorial standards and barely any punctuation, where the reader is expected to somehow do all the work of comprehending an opaque string of lowercase letters - but not even a single novel has gotten in.
Before the current phase of his life, there was an era when he'd embraced the new tools for connecting online. As a self employed musician, he felt obligated to participate and make himself available on the most populated websites. At one point, it led to online conversations worth having. But now, every sign of human activity he can find in a web browser is some form of marketing.
His dream of leaving behind his phone and all of his online accounts is picking up steam. His motivation intensifies.
The salad arrives. An array of finely chopped delights conceals a bed of fresh, crunchy cabbage. Pickled things, fried garlic wafers, fermented tea leaves. Two medium sized wooden spoons rest in grooves on the side of the bowl. He is in no hurry to pick them up; once the salad is mixed, this beautiful vision before him will vanish, but a new and equally enchanting one will appear in its place, and the aromas will begin to do their work.
His friend is giving him a look like, what are you waiting for? He suddenly remembers that he has not been socializing much recently, and that it will take a little extra effort to observe the social norms.
This lunch has been on his mind for a while now. Of all of his old friends, the ones who he knows well enough to schedule a lunch, he thought long and hard about who would be a good candidate. Who is crazy enough to play this game? Most people take online account deletion very seriously. But to turn it into a game? And a casual game, at that? You might not have to be crazy, yet one would require a will to provoke, and a feeling of having nothing to lose. Who among his contacts may be amused enough by this idea to give it a shot, play the game, delete a forgotten streaming account to start things off - and maybe talk about it online? Give the Game a little exposure - help put the idea out into the world? He thought long and hard about this before finally scheduling this lunch. He has already created a spreadsheet and is waiting for the right moment to offer access to a friend, so they can keep score.
He picks up the spoons. Before disturbing the top layer of seperate piles of numerous colors and textures, he gently slides one spoon under each side of the whole arrangement. Applying a little pressure towards the center of the bowl, he starts to turn the whole thing about fifteen minutes counter-clockwise. A mild avalanche has begun among the fried chickpeas, and its raining some mysterious and delicious looking seeds between four and five o'clock. Now that the process can't be stopped, moderately large sections of the whole salad must be lifted slightly and dropped onto their neighboring regions. That is how the proper distiribution can be achieved - with a variety of cautious and loving techniques. The sides of the bowl are nice and high, and nothing is getting away. Everything is going according to plan.